


Unnatural Selection

by PetalsandPhan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Also Martyn's dead, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Banter, Castles, Dan does too, Dan's a servant, F/M, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Slurs, M/M, Magic, Magical Creatures, Mutual Pining, Phil Needs a Hug, Phil can do magic, Phil's a prince, Phil's parents are mean, Princes, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Think of Merlin, Unrequited Love, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetalsandPhan/pseuds/PetalsandPhan
Summary: Prince Phillip has never had a friend in his life. Controlled by his father, Phil is forced into going on a difficult journey to find the hidden princess. But when Phil is accompanied by the servant Dan, will their friendship blossom into something more, something forbidden and unheard of?





	1. Chapter 1

Tonight, Phil was dreaming.

  
He rarely dreamed, that was one of the downsides of practicing magic. Sleep was reserved for prophesies and thinking.  
But occasionally, magic-users could drift off into a dream.  
He was with his mother and father, they were proud of him.  
He could see the happiness in their eyes, swirling like clouds.  
The scene changed, and Phil glanced around. He was in an unfamiliar place, a large meadow sprinkled with wildflowers. Unusual. The kingdom of Rawtenstall was bleak and cold this time of year. No flowers grew yet.

  
A prophecy, maybe?

  
"Phil." Someone whispered his name from behind. The way they said it, so filled with affection and love...it was as if they were they only two people in the entire universe, designed just for each other. Warmth filled his chest, and he quickly turned around to see who it was.

Phil gasped as he opened his eyes to stare at his ceiling. _No!_  
He let out a frustrated puff of breath and climbed out of his soft bed, facing the Rawtenstall chill.  
His room was quite elaborate, velvety drapes, a large oak wardrobe, and the finest silks for his bed, but Phil didn't pay it any mind.  
Then there was the desk for his magic books, spells, and potion ingredients, his favorite spot in the whole room. Of course, Phil stored those away from prying eyes and only took them out when he was alone.

He walked past the large window without giving it a second glance, not wanting to look at the dozens of people scattered around the shops.  
Phil usually loved watching the bustling square, seeing the content villagers go about their day.  
But he didn't want to see the townsfolk today, because soon they would all be gathered beneath his father's balcony, wanting to see _him_.  
Phil found himself standing in front of the window anyways.

"Your Highness! It's time to get ready!" A loud voice said with a sharp knock to his door.  
A curly-haired servant entered swiftly with a bundle of fabrics.  
Phil saw with distaste that they were his finest royal clothes, and he sighed.  
He brought himself to smile appreciably at the man. "Hello."

Spreading his arms, Phil allowed his nightclothes to be replaced by the silly puffed shirt and tight knickers. The clothes made him look like a goose, puffed and proud.  
He tugged on and buttoned the jacket himself, finding someone else dressing him ridiculous.  
His servant protested at this, as and Phil had noticed he was new, and had yet to learn that Phil liked to dress on his own.  
Most of the attendants had an unspoken agreement with Phil, to at least let Phil button his own jacket.

  
"I haven't seen you before, what is your name?" He asked, regretting that he had forgotten to ask earlier.

"I-uh, just call me PJ, Your Highness." The servant, PJ, said embarrassedly. "My name is much too long to stumble all the way through." He admitted, surveying Phil like he was his greatest accomplishment.

He then turned his attention back to Phil's pitch-colored hair, which was askew with sleep. PJ began tugging through the strands down painfully with a brush. "Really Your Highness, you must pay more attention towards your appearance."

His appearance. Phil didn't want to be rude, he hated being rude to someone who worked hard day and night and was only trying to help, but Phil believed there were greater things to be worried about.

"PJ. Yes. Thank you. Could I go to my parents now, please?" Phil suggested, grimacing as the servant gave his hair one last yank, feeling, like a bird being plucked.

"Of course, sir. But it _is_ my job to make sure you are presentable before you stand before the kingdom." PJ said with a twinge of his accent, dabbing Phil's face one last time with a rag. "Now, come with me."  
  
• • •

"Phillip, sit down now." His father instructed, flippantly waving away PJ as they arrived in the throne room. "We don't have much time until we begin the announcements."

Phil obliged, taking the chair next to his mother, who watched him with worry in her bright blue eyes. Phil had inherited those eyes, but had the face of his father, much to his dislike.

A slight frown was on his father's face, the corners of his mouth turned down, which told Phil all he needed to know.  
He was in trouble, as usual.  
Phil struggled not to dart out of the room while he still could.

"Phil," His father began. "You are the prince heir, and as you know, you have the right to my crown."

"Yes." Phil said.

 _Don't_ _remind me_ , Phil thought.

"Soon, it will be time for you to take my place as ruler, as you are nearly 22. I have done my best to prepare you for this task, so your future people will see you as a fit and worthy king of Rawtenstall."

Phil bobbed his head, wishing his father would just get to the point. He got the sense that this was a prepared speech, and would rather just hear whatever his father was trying to tell him.

"However-,"  
Phil nearly collapsed. So this was another lecture about how Phil should spend more time practicing his sword-fighting than fiddling with magic.

Dueling, hunting, and other practices most men took part in were not something Phil enjoyed. He didn't understand the practice of killing or hurting other living creatures deliberately.

"-a king cannot rule without a _queen_ by his side." The king said, glancing knowingly towards Phil's mother. A sense of relief passed between the king and queen, but Phil couldn't breathe.

"....Oh."  
He knew that his parents wanted him to marry soon. He just didn't this to be brought up today.  
The king and queen didn't have any arrangements yet, did they?

Of course they did.  
Phil felt his face drop, like he was a puppet and someone had pulled his strings slack. The entire village had come to the castle. They only came during the utmost importance.

"My king, maybe we should have waited to tell Phil." His mother said, her birdlike face dreadfully twisted. "He is rather young."

His father groaned. "We have waited and waited, he is getting too old! He needs to be betrothed!  
The kingdom needs a powerful alliance with Rivertown! This is our chance!"

"Yes, but perhaps something else could be arranged...,"

Phil watched the exchange in horror. This was his _future_ they were talking about. Phil felt his life slipping away from his hands, merely smoke he couldn't hold onto. Phil cleared his throat, fearing it would close up entirely if he didn't.

The king glanced back towards the speechless Phil, as if he almost forgot he was there. He plastered a practised smile on his aging face, quickly shifting the mood.

"Phillip. The perfect opportunity has presented itself. Rivertown has finally confessed to us that a young princess was hidden away in the forest by her kin.She was saved there until she was 16, until she could become a bride for a prince."  
His father sighed in distaste. "I always suspected that they were lying to us about a princess never existing. Damn Rivertown. Strong army, but a bunch of liars."

"You have been chosen to be the prince who will rescue her and claim her as your queen." His father continued. Once you return, Phillip, I will relinquish my throne to you and your bride."

Phil's heart stopped beating.

They were asking him to go on a dangerous journey through unknown territory. Phil could come across wild animals, bandits, even perhaps the alleged rebels who didn't agree with how the king ruled. Unlikely, but possible.

He also had to rescue an unwilling girl, and marry her. He wouldn't ever love her, he knew this. Could anyone love someone they had only just met?

And then...become king. Phil's father was getting on, but Phil wasn't prepared to be king.  
He had to let his father know he was against this, he might never have the opportunity again.  
  
"Father, sir, I can't love someone I haven't met. I-," Phil sputtered, his fists curled up. "Please. Not yet, Your Majesty."

"You should know by now that marriage is not for love." The king snapped. Phil's mother winced at this. "You need a queen to ascend the throne, and the time is ripe."  
Phil felt his anger flare.

"You've always treated me as nothing more than a political advantage. A-a..commodity.  
I refuse to find the princess."  
Phil said, his voice on the brink of shaking. He had to say this, it was his last chance before everything was set in stone, before he couldn't control fate. "I cannot be king."

But the second the words spilled out of his mouth, something in his father's expression changed as he tried to wrap his head around the words.

It wasn't understanding, it wasn't empathy, it was fury. But then, what did Phil expect? His father to agree happily and consider his feelings for once?

Suddenly seconds felt like hours, and eerie silence filled the room like the minutes before an explosion.

"How _dare_ you disrespect your father!" His father snarled.  
Phil's eyes widened with fear as his father lunged forward and grabbed Phil roughly by his shirt. "I have done everything I can to make you an exemplary king! You cannot cast that aside, foolish boy!"

Phil fell back as he was released, alarms still sounding through his mind. Distantly, he heard the bells that confirmed that the king would begin his announcements shortly, but that didn't matter now. "This _never_ would have happened if your brother was here."

That was a low blow, but a familiar one. Phil winced as his father brought up the painful memory of his older brother's death.

He was the true heir to the throne, until he contracted a serious illness with no cure. His father was devastated, and Phil had begun training to be king at 16.

Phil sometimes wished Martyn was alive, he always seemed to know what to do, unlike himself. His brother could always, always, please their father.

But his father resented him, for living when the older brother didn't. He was always comparing Phil to Martyn.

 _Martyn_ would have done this instead, _Martyn_ would've done the right thing, not what you did, he would've been normal in the first place.

His anger flared, a fully grown blaze now. _How could anyone be so...so..._

His train of thought stopped instantly, and Phil began to feel an insatiable burning spreading through his body.  
_No. Not again_.

He was pulsing, breathing power, like he had turned into an another life form entirely. He clenched his teeth as the energy caused spasms to rack through his body, something trying to escape from within.

Phil struggled not to shout, his entire body was on fire. He was sure the room was spinning.

"Phillip, stop this at once!" Someone, Phil couldn't be sure who roared. He sank to his knees as his magic found its release, draining itself from him like energy.

Phil pried open his eyes, not realizing he had closed them.

His mother clutched the arms of her chair, her face white as sheet. His father had taken shelter behind the parlor table, staring at him with a mixture of disgust and shock.

Phil averted his eyes, ashamed at what he had done to upset them.

"Look at him, he's... _glowing_."

Phil inhaled sharply as he quickly studied the radiance shining from his skin. It was a harsh red this time, instead of the soft blue from the first time this had occurred.  
He wanted to disappear, to be engulfed in the unnatural light and never return.

Suddenly he was yanked towards the other direction, in the shadows near his mother.  
"Get that under control, boy. People might see." His father hissed, still looking shaken from the encounter. The king quickly let go of Phil's jacket sleeve, making sure to position himself far away from Phil.

"Now. Let's ignore that...mishap." His father said.  
"You are going to go stand by my side as I tell the people that you have chosen to go on a quest to find the lost princess of Rivertown. You will keep your mouth shut. You will not do that... _thing_. And if you don't, you will be stripped of your title, thrown in jail, and disowned as my son." The king snapped while Phil's mother simply watched.

So Phil did what his father told him to, and once the square had cleared and he stumbled back to the safety his room, he curled up on his bed, defeated. A hollow feeling spread through him. He wasn't ready to claim his throne, he wasn't ready to be married. After everything that had happened today, Phil was ready to quit.

He felt like a handkerchief, ripped into scraps for everyone to take for their own use, his father, his subjects, even his future wife.  
Nobody paid any mind to what remained, a collection of torn pieces that weren't whole anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's in this one ;) 
> 
> Also, there's homophobia in this chapter (remember this is medieval times).

Phil blinked the sleep from his eyes as moonlight peeked from between his curtains. Owls and bats were probably about, the squirrels and birds sleeping soundly in their nests. _Who knows what unholy hour of night it is_ , Phil thought grimly.  
He had barely gotten a wink of sleep, but Phil was grateful he had woken up so early.

This meant he could slip away without servants fussing over him. Instead Phil could dress himself in plain clothes and make his way quietly to the castle's conservatory, the place where every plant imaginable grew and thrived.

He slipped through the hallways, blanketed in shadows that concealed him from anyone who was possibly awake at this hour. But he didn't care if anyone found him anyway.

The door opened with a squeak as Phil stepped inside the conservatory, nearly squashing a stray fern leaf. The conservatory was large, with wide windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. Plants covered every inch of the room, there was barely enough room to walk. He knew the conservatory well, he had grown half of the plants himself. He sat by one of the many hanging plants, brushing away vines that swung in his face.

Phil found he didn't care much about anything right now. Not plants, not magic, not princesses and kingdoms and fathers. He felt like a rock trapped in the treads of someone's shoe, stuck in a cycle of endless suffocation.

_"Greetings, ladies, gentlemen, valued subjects. We have some rather exciting news for our kingdom." His father paused for the chattering to die down, a natural in front of crowds. "My son, crown prince to the throne, Phillip, has made the difficult decision to go on a dangerous journey that could last an indeterminable amount of time. The purpose of it," His father paused to let the statement fill into the heads of the people, and Phil shivered. The hand on his shoulder tightened painfully. "To find a bride."_

_Murmurs and whispers swept across the large crowd and Phil tried to causally slide out of his father's grip, but couldn't. "He will be traveling through the Rivertown territory and then through their forest to search for a hidden princess. I have supported him through this decision and will do my best to prepare him for when the time comes to leave. Thank you, and that is all."_

Phil slammed his hand into the wall in frustration. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.  
His life was over, he had been sentenced to a loveless life as king, a copy of his father. Any ambitions Phil had to actually enjoy life was gone. He wouldn't be allowed to study more magic, or grow plants. His father had even erased the chance of Phil finding love. He never was, and never would be, loved.

• • •

The next week was spent preparing Phil for the long journey to Burrfield. His father constantly discussed fighting styles and politics with Phil, probably the biggest signs of interest the king had ever shown in his younger son.  
Phil attempted to pretend nothing was wrong, and attended the meetings with his father without argument, to keep up his act.

However, the charade didn't last long.

The servants began recognizing the sadness in Prince Phillip, a rare change from his cheerful self.  
They noticed the little things only observant servants would, his slumped shoulders as they dressed him, how he ate thoughtlessly. The smiles he avidly gave them weren't nearly as bright as usual.

Luckily enough, one of the servants who had noticed Phil's behavior was Dan Howell, a young man who had never actually met the prince, but heard enough gossip from the others.

Dan quietly listened to the two, more experienced castle workers, as they twittered like birds about the forlorn prince. He never talked with them when they made beds together, he just focused on his task and blended in. He didn't like talking to them, Dan never had any gossip to offer.

"A handsome prince like that shouldn't be so glum. It saddens the whole palace."

"Oh, you're just being foolish. It's obvious the boy just needs a little attention from that wretched father of his. Ever since the oldest boy died, his father hasn't been the same." A hook-nosed maid replied, fluffing the pillows hurriedly.

After all the rooms were clean and the crisp morning turned into cold afternoon, Dan silently made his way back through the hallways, stopping once he reached the servant's dining room.

He took a seat in a worn, rickety chair that definitely needed to be replaced and watched the coming-and-going staff scuttle to the different areas of the castle.

His tasks were done, and the uniformed order of the servants became a relaxing sight. As he watched the clutters of people with contentment, he was soon yanked up by a forceful hand and scattered out of his peaceful atmosphere.

"You. You're needed upstairs by His Royal Highness right away."  
Dan was greeted by a man with a face that reminded Dan of someone who would scream at people to stop standing on the flower beds in his yard.

"Not that you're doing anything productive, mind you." He added, shoving a tea tray into Dan's hands.

Dan dusted himself off, if not to catch the grouchiness from the elder. "But I'm not a valet, or even a manservant. " He protested.

"His Highness's valet is ill. We have a substitute to fill in, but he's nowhere to be found and the tea will grow cold if I go and try find him and I've got a turkey turning to charcoal in the oven and _why are you still standing here go give Prince Phillip his tea._ "

"It's my time off." Dan muttered quietly as he stood up.  
It was more of a confirmation for himself than an explanation to the old man.

He took stairs by two, not wanting to admit that he was actually somewhat curious to serve the prince tea.

Dan always attended the twice-weekly announcements the king made, along with the rest of the castle-workers, but he had never seen Prince Phillip up close. He never worked upstairs when any of the family was up. But his interest had been peaked when the king had revealed the prince was going to be married.

Another part of his mind wondered if he _was_ handsome like the maids had said, but Dan quickly crushed the thought into dust.

 _Horrible things have happened to people who have gone down that path_. Dan reminded himself.

Smoothing down unruly knots of curls-which Dan hated, but straightening potions cost more than what was readily available in his pocket- Dan wondered if he was presentable enough.  
A simple tunic and worn but clean trousers, his clothes served their purpose, but he was absolutely certain that Prince Phillip's usual valets wore finer goods, which only added to the stack of Dan's nerves. Dan was only a laundry boy, low on the ranks and wages.

Taking a deep breath, Dan knocked lightly on the prince's large door, not wanting to disturb the man behind it. He waited in the dark corridor, his grip on the tea tray the only thing anchoring him to the ground as his knees wobbled.

"Come in." A muffled voice replied. Dan took a deep breath and entered the prince's chambers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!
> 
> Also, if I tag things wrong, it's because I have no idea how to do anything on this website.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and remember, this is on Wattpad too!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, some thoughts against homosexuality.
> 
> Any spells Phil uses are Latin words reworked a bit. Just like the Harry Potter books.
> 
> Sorry my updates aren't consistent. Homework, ya know.

" _Veni_." Phil muttered again, his brow furrowed in concentration as he levitated one of his traveling cloaks. The cloak started to gracefully rise from its roost in Phil's wardrobe, but faltered and sank towards the floor halfway through.

Lately, Phil's magic skills had been lacking, and Phil couldn't perform much more than basic magic.  
He simply couldn't focus, his mind was constantly clouded by his worries. At least he tried.

Phil was startled out of his thoughts by three slow knocks on the wood of his door.  
_Hopefully that's the tea_. Phil thought.

Phil darted out of his armchair, closing his spell book and shoving it hastily into his agape wardrobe along with the cloak, just in case it was more advisors, or worse, his father.

"Come in." Phil answered, sinking back into the soft plush seat.

A young wide-eyed man with hair like tree branches stepped in cautiously, surveying Phil's room in awe. Phil let out a breath of relief.

"Hello." Phil said, making the man jump and the teapot rattle against the tray.  
"Watch the tea, uh, what do they call you?"

"Dan...iel. Daniel. Dan, Your Highness."

"It's piping, you might spill it on yourself." Phil advised the servant, _Dan_. Phil urged himself to smile at the man, not wanting to force his bad mood onto someone else.

Placing the tea tray on Phil's end table, Dan began pouring a cup of tea for Phil. "Thank you, Your Highness."

Phil took the cup graciously and sipped it. By that time, Phil had left the conversation, choosing instead to brood at the window.

"Your Highness? I'm sorry, but if you don't mind me asking, are you...all right?" Dan asked, breaking the silence hovering in the room.

A beat passed.

Phil's eyebrows raised, surprised at Dan's bold question. He has never had someone so unabashedly talk to him, treating him, well, like a regular person.

"I mean, you are going on a very, um, _lengthy_ journey, and, then you will be coronated as the new, um, king." Dan explained meekly, his expression mirroring an ashamed puppy who had just been scolded.  
"I thought maybe-maybe that would be stressful...for you."

He bowed his head apologetically.  
"My apologies sir, I shouldn't have spoken out of turn. I just thought...."

Phil gave him a knowing smile. "Thats not a problem."

Phil let out a deep breath, one he hadn't been aware he was holding in. "I am quite thankful you considered my feelings in all this...mess. Its just, soon, all these people's lives will be in _my_ hands." Phil gestured towards the window, that bloody window that always drew Phil in, always made him stare at those people and watch them, worry about them.  
"It's my birthright, and even though I alone am prepared to rule, I wish I didn't have to. I wished I could just control my _own_ future." At this point, Phil was just rambling out anything that popped into his head, every worry and angry thought.

Phil finally looked up with an angry huff, and Dan was stunned into silence. He looked like he didn't expect an actual answer from Phil. Phil supposed he had gone on a bit of a mad rant, but he was just so _frustrated_ with everything. He had to make amends, the poor man looked shell-shocked.

"I apologize. That was a bit too much." Phil paused, an idea in the works. "...may I show you something to ease your mind?"

Dan eyed him warily, like he was trying to decide if this was all a ruse. It made sense, Phil supposed. Most royalty wouldn't dare deign to a servant's question, let alone spill their feelings out like some naive child.

Phil was a little shocked himself.  
But something, something was different about this particular man, something that intrigued Phil. Besides, Phil liked to think he wasn't like most royalty.

"Yes, of course Your Highness, but-you're not offended? I'm not going to be punished?" Dan asked.

Phil shook his head. "No, because if I did that, you'd never be friends with me."

Dan hesitantly met Phil's eyes, deep brown meeting crystal blue. "Is that what we're going to be? Friends?" Uncertainty clouded Dan's gaze.

Phil took Dan's hand, pulling him towards his spell table. "If you want to be."  
• • •

All Dan was supposed to do was serve Prince Phillip tea.

Now, Dan was sitting in a velvety chair far finer than anything his bottom had ever touched, holding a cup of tea, while Prince Phillip, _the_ Prince Phillip, searched the pages of a ratty-looking leather book he had retrieved from his wardrobe. This was something a person like him had never done.

Dan was flustered, his hands were sweating, because being a prince's friend was so much more than serving him tea.

Nevermind that he happened to be an _attractive_ prince. Dan tried not to stare at Prince Phillip, his ebony hair that fell perfectly against his forehead, his smooth white rose skin, eyes like a lake in the morning.

_No_! Dan scolded himself, cheeks flaming in mortification. _You cannot think like this. Think of something else._

Dan shoved those feelings deep within himself, far away from the light of day. His tongue felt like a stone in his mouth, but Dan quickly started up a conversation to take the place of his thoughts.

"Do you normally do this, sir? Share all your feelings with a servant and then invite to teatime?" Dan asked impulsively, managing to tear his eyes away from Prince Phillip as he glanced up. He immediately regretted it, knowing that was much too informal and crossing a line.

The prince merely cracked a smile at Dan in response.

_That's twice he's smiled at me instead of replying._ Dan noted irritably. But he couldn't be irate. Dan knew he was treading dangerous territory today, asking too personal of questions and acting much too friendly with this prince.

"Ah! I found it. Watch this."  
Prince Phillip closed the book shut with a satisfying thunk. Dan watched curiously as the prince closed his eyes and muttered something. " _Candenti Papilios_."

Dan gasped and nearly fell out of his chair as dozens of luminous blue butterflies erupted from Phillip's fingertips, dancing across the room. They glowed and pulsed a brilliant shade of cerulean, and moved together in a flow like music. Dan had never witnessed such a beautiful sight.

"You- you can do magic, Your Highness?" Dan asked, in awe of the fluttering symphony of butterflies circling his head. He stood up and desperately tried to snatch one, wanting to keep the delicate creature forever.

"Yeah." He shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal yet it was the most magnificent thing Dan had ever witnessed. "I haven't ever shown anyone that trick."

"Trick? Your Highness, that was incredible, marvelous even." Dan sputtered incredulously, sitting back down as the blue butterflies faded away much too soon.

Prince Phillip beamed. "Do you really think so?"

"Yes. I've never actually seen...," Dan embarrassedly ducked his head. Dear lord. What an unsophisticated person he must sound like. "I've never seen anyone do magic before." Magic was practically unheard of among common folk, and Dan had always figured the it was one of the many luxuries the royal court enjoyed. Even though he lived and worked there, Dan didn't know much about how the other half lived.

Phil's smiled softened, making Dan's insides turn to liquid. "I'm afraid you can't pass this on to anyone, nobody's supposed to know."

Dan nodded instantly. Who did he have to tell anyway? Certainly not the fellow servants.

"Now, as long as you know I can do magic, and you've agreed not to tell anyone, we can continue with our conversation. What type of work do you do as a servant, Dan?"

"I'm a laundry boy, as they call them, Your Highness. I just wash clothes and make and unmake beds." Dan explained, getting it all out in one breath. He hated admitting that he wasn't a high ranking servant, only just above the kitchen maids and hall boys.

"That's interesting. Call me a fool, but I don't pay attention about the rankings of servants. Tell me, what do you do for fun?"

Dan blinked, considering how to respond.  
"I... I really should be getting back, Your Highness. I've already stayed too long."

Prince Phillip was being unbelievably kind to him, and Dan was used to being treated like he didn't exist.

It was strange, and an unwelcome dynamic.  
_I don't need princes turning everything I have ever known upside down._  
Dan began to slide out of his chair just as Prince Phillip reached for his hand, stopping him. "Wait."

_What is he doing?_ Dan thought, mortified. The glowing butterflies seemed to have wormed their way into Dan's stomach, fluttering rapidly. To Dan's dismay, a part of his brain couldn't help but notice how warm the prince's hands were, how natural his grip felt. Don't think don't think don't think-

"Please, Dan, come back and visit me tomorrow." Prince Phillip begged. "Promise me."

_Talk about dramatics_ , Dan thought, subconsciously rolling his eyes.

"I will try, Your Highness, but I have tasks to do, beds to make-,"

"Please." And when Phillip looked up into Dan's eyes, his entire resolve melted. He looked so lost, so forlorn. The maid's words echoed in Dan's head. _A handsome prince like that shouldn't be so glum._

He wondered if Prince Phillip had ever had a companion, someone to show his magic tricks, and talk to. The thought saddened Dan.  
Not having a friend was all too familiar.

"I promise you, Your Highness, I will visit you again." Dan said firmly. Prince Phillip's face brightened like a flaming candle. He laughed, a wonderful sound. Dan instinctively smiled as a response.

"Don't call me Your Highness anymore, please. It seems silly for me to call you by your first name and you not address me the same," Prince Phillip said. "From now on, call me Phil whenever you see me. Even if you're just cleaning a bed and I walk by, say, 'Hello Phil! Oh, did I startle you and make you fall over? My apologies!'"

Dan couldn't help but snort at this. He didn't know whether it was the bad attempt at a joke or the endearing way the prince had told it.

"See, I made you laugh. We're certainly friends now." Prince Phillip, er, _Phil_ pointed out.

"If you say so." Dan agreed, smiling.

The tension between the pair seemed to have evaporated. They were no longer the prince and his servant, separated by social boundaries, they were only Dan, and only Phil, friends.

"Phil." Dan whispered to himself, trying the new title out. But his smile soon faded. _What have I gotten myself into?_

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's longer than the others. Actually it might be the same length as the others but it felt longer to me lol.
> 
> There is mentions of abuse in this chapter too.

  
Dan did not get the chance to visit Phil again. Fate had a cunning way of changing things around.

Much to Phil's dismay, nearly the very second Dan left his company and went back to the servant quarters, Phil was called to the king's chambers.

As he traveled to his father, Phil recounted the day's events over and over, trying to brand the experience into his memory permanently. He had certainly never felt happier. He wanted to go find his friend and do it all over again.

"You wanted to see me, Father?" Phil asked, hoping he didn't sound strange. He felt exhilarated, like a boiling teapot ready to burst out with steam. He had a friend for the first time in his life.

"Phillip. Let me look at you."  
Phil stiffened as his father began to circle around him, like a wolf hunting his prey.

"Yes, I daresay this shield will fit you well." Phil stumbled back as a elaborate circle of bronze was shoved into his hands.

"It was my own as a young man. I used it to protect myself from danger many times. Now, I give it to you, to use as your own." The king proclaimed.

Phil studied the shield, nearly dropping it due to its hefty weight. It was certainly a work of art, covered in intricate patterns fit for a royal. But would he ever have use for it?

"I don't know what to say, Father." Phil said. Really, he didn't. He distracted himself by fiddling with one of the brass buttons on his jacket.

"I was thinking you might want it now so you have time to send it to the armory for cleaning before you leave for your journey tomorrow."

That was when Phil did drop the shield, the clatter echoing on the stone floor.

"Tomorrow?" Phil repeated. "I'm leaving so soon?"

"Correct, and I suggest you begin packing before it is time for your last supper in the castle." His father snapped. "And pick up your shield, I didn't give it to you just so you could put dents in it."

"Of course, sir. "He grabbed the shield quickly and placed it on the end table. He didn't try and fight his father about this again, it was pointless.

His mind flashed to the wavy-haired boy who had entered his life entirely by coincidence. _This will be the only day I will spend with Dan._

"Am I taking any guards along with me, sir? A footman, a cook, anything?" Phil pressed, not wanting to dwell on those unhappy thoughts.

"Only your personal guard will accompany you, in case you run into trouble. We don't want you traveling with an entire entourage, might make you look like you can't handle roughing it." His father paced the room, and Phil wondered if he was thinking about the possibility of rebels and hoodlums finding out Phil was traveling.

His father was not a paranoid man, but the thought of people out there questioning his leadership gave him many sleepless nights.

Anyone who worked in the castle was always thoroughly examined, and guards were stationed at every corner of the castle grounds. Phil didn't really believe such people existed, as an attack had never happened on the castle, and he had never heard anyone discussing it.

"I should be fine, sir. I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Phil said, smirking to himself. He had studied a spell that released a puff of poisonous gas, that rendered the inhaler incapable of moving. It was rather gruesome, but in times of need...

"Tricks." His father scoffed. "Any tricks you have won't defend you nearly as well as a sword and simple strength."

Phil frowned. _I should have known not to talk to my father about magic._

Phil remembered his mother scolding him when he was younger, her soft voice full of reprimand, how he mustn't use magic in front of anyone outside the family, or even his father, because it would frighten them. People were frightened of things they did not understand.

He remembered the daughter of one of his father's advisors shrieking in pure terror when Phil began levitating a glass vase during one of his 'arranged outings'. Zoe, he believed her name was. This was the point his father had stopped throwing him at the court's daughters. The last he had heard, Zoe had married one of their knights...

"Phillip! Phillip, are you listening to me? I'm still talking to you!" The king snapped his fingers in Phil's face.

"Yes sir! Sorry sir." Phil gulped. He hated to admit it, but Phil was terrified of his father.

Scars on his back tingled with memory from whenever he had been whipped as a punishment, none ever quite healing properly.  
There were lingering bruises on his shoulders from where the king has gripped him too hard. And with all the power he had as king, Phil knew there were many things besides physical harm that could happen to Phil if he defied him.

"By your leave, sir. I'd like to go pack my bag." Phil explained, hoping to leave. He didn't want to stay any longer than he had to.

"Yes, yes." His father gestured towards the door. "Oh, and wear the purple dinner jacket. The court favors that one." He added, turning away from Phil like he was already gone. That wasn't unusual. 

Raindrops began to pelt against his father's window, streaking down the glass. Phil gave one last glance, and turned and disappeared down the hallway.

 

• • •

"By my beard boy, don't you _dare_ drop that bottle!"

Dan clung onto the wine bottle desperately as man after man whisked by with the drinks for the guests. The staff had begun to stand by the satin-backed chairs, patiently waiting to serve the Rawtenstall court and their respective party.

The room was draped in red and gold, the tables offsetting the warm tone of the room with crisp white cloths. Smells of mutton, pheasant, and venison overwhelmed the area, and mixed with the fruity smell of the wine Dan was carrying, it repulsed him. _Why would anyone eat this much?_

He wiped his forehead with his gloved hand for what felt like the hundredth time. This uniform, liveries, the servants called them, was not something Dan was used to.

Dan didn't usually work in the kitchen, thank the stars for that.   
On the nights that the chefs had to prepare food for parties double the size of the usual dinner crowd, the kitchens were ridiculously understaffed. Servants and valets and even the lower staff, such as hall and laundry boys were plucked from their respective jobs to help serve the phenomenal courses.

It wasn't all bad though, at least Dan had a chance to see Phil again.   
He bounced on the balls of his feet anxiously, searching the masses of people entering the widespread room.

Did he _want_ to see Phil again?

_Who knows._

Time rushed by, Dan filling several people's glasses with the rich wine. There was still no sign of Phil. Dan moved behind an empty chair, prepared to give wine to any upcoming guests.

Finally Dan caught a flash of shiny black hair in the crowd. However, Dan lost his view of Phil as he was pushed back by a ginormous clergyman taking his seat. _Damn it._ Dan cursed to himself.

Dan grimaced and poured the wine as quickly as possible in the goblet for the man, still trying to reach Phil's gaze.

"Oi! You got wine on my best silken jacket, you-you-churl!" The clergyman barked like a fox at Dan. Dan's eyes widened in distress. He could get in serious trouble for offending a member of the court. He hoped he hadn't caused a scene, that would be worse for Dan's pride.

"My apologies sir, my mind was elsewhere." Dan used his cloth to dab the pooling burgundy liquid off the scowling man.

"You're lucky I won't have you hanged for this." He grumbled. "Blasted servants. Why do they got eyes for if they don't even use 'em?!"

Dan felt like protesting at his unreasonableness, but held his tongue. _Best not press my luck_.

He stepped away from the table and lingered by the hall leading towards the kitchen stairs, basking in shadows as he tried to pick out Phil.

Dan really should have been joining the orderly stream of servants back towards the kitchens and buttery, but at that moment, Dan found Phil's at the farthest corner of the endless table. The prince was slumped forward against the table, twirling a finger in his goblet. He looked like he was imagining he was someplace other than here, dreaming of adventure, flying free in the clouds.  
  
Phil must have sensed someone's gaze on him, and looked up and collided into Dan's gaze. Dan didn't know what else to do, so he waved embarrassedly.

Phil's stare sharpened in recognition, but turned to dismay once the initial shock had worn off. The prince averted his eyes, pretending to talk to an advisor.

A pang hit his chest, and Dan stumbled back, turning to storm down the stairs and get as far away from the prince as possible so he couldn't see his reaction.

Phil wasn't pleased to see him. Was he embarrassed of him? Was the monologue he gave about being _friends_ all a cruel trick? Dan bitterly leaned against the empty landing wall. How stupid he was to think he had actually had a friend.

It didn't matter anyway, Dan had only known him for a day. _Not long enough to make lasting bonds_ , Dan told himself, but it wasn't enough to convince him.

"Good evening, my good friends and associates."

Panic filled Dan's chest like sand in an hourglass. Servants weren't supposed to be around when the king began his speech. He should be downstairs, preparing a tray of soup and bread for the first course.

"We have gathered you here for this special meal for one reason and one reason alone. Prince Phillip is leaving for his journey tomorrow, as you know. He will be gone for several weeks, and won't have a nice castle meal for quite some time. So, I ask you all the give the prince a farewell as you enjoy this delectable food. To Prince Phillip." The king declared.

"To Prince Phillip." The people repeated, voices melding together like precious ores.

Dan tried to let the words the king had just spoken settle in. Phil was leaving. Tomorrow. _Why didn't he tell me earlier? Why did he just ignore me?_ He thought.

Dan slowly slinked back up the stairs and watched as Phil stood and gave a flawless smile as he was applauded. His smile might've fooled everyone else, but it didn't fool Dan.

Phil was only pretending to be happy for his subjects, sacrificing himself like some holy lamb, and Dan supposed that Phil thought had gotten quite good at pretending over the years. But anyone who was actually looking, they could see the truth.  
He turned down the stairs for good, a whirlpool of questions brewing inside his mind.

He joined the other dozens of servants milling around the kitchen, pretending like he had been there all along. Dan was handed a tray of a spicy smelling soup, as well an enormous slice of bread that could have fed a starving family of four.

Dan sighed, as not long after he arrived back upstairs with the tray and napkins back on his arm.

Avoiding Phil completely, Dan threw himself the roar of conversations as he raced back and forth from the kitchens to the dining room with dish after dish. In between courses, he participated in reluctant banter with other servants, discussing mundane topics Dan didn't care about. The night felt as though it would've before all this prince nonsense.

Dan was just leaving to go help bring in dessert, when he was called over by a woman.

"Excuse me? Could you please get me a different napkin, I spilled a bit of cream sauce on it, and I would simply die if I ruined my dress." A young lady in pink silks asked sweetly. Her companion gave a apologetic smile.

Dan cleared his throat. "Right away, my lady."

Dan returned with a fresh set of napkins, offering them to her. "As you requested, my lady." Ignoring the presented napkins, the woman simply continued her game.

"The service around here is excellent, wouldn't you say, Beth? A feast of its own kind." The lady said.

To emphasis her point, the pink lady made a show of looking Dan up and down very slowly, like a hunter studying her prey.

Dan stared blankly at the wall, pretending not to notice, staying silent as he waited for her to take the napkins.He shifted uncomfortably in his stiff livery, which he didn't belong in anyway. Dan would've given anything to be anywhere else but here. Hell, he would've taken cleaning out the palace stables with the stable boys.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far- ow!" Beth exclaimed as no doubt a sharp kick was given to her shin.

"You have very becoming hair, has anyone ever told you that?" The unnamed noblewoman gushed.  
"I always wanted wavy hair, but instead I got this." She gathered several strands of her hair in her fingers. "Like liquid gold, my mother always said."

Dan hated that he wasn't allowed to fire back a response, that he couldn't talk back to the nobles and retort that her hair was more like the soiled horse hay in the stables than gold.

"No, I can't say I've heard that." Dan gritted his teeth, trying to figure out how to put this politely. "Could you perchance take your napkins, my lady? I must beg your pardon, I need to get back to the kitchens."

The noblewoman laughed, and Dan realized with a sinking feeling she had no intention of letting him leave. People were starting to listen to them, thinking the lady and her antics amusing. She was an entertainer now. Dan's heart thumped, a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"The desserts can wait. There are plenty of servants just milling around. Why don't you tell me your name, so we can know each other a bit better? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The lady smirked. This got a few snickers from the crowd. Dan wanted to bolt towards the door, he was sick of nobles. He kept his face clear of emotions, servants weren't allowed to _feel_ anything.

But a feeling of relief washed over Dan as the woman known as Beth reached over and took the napkins from him, a lighthouse in this storm.

"Hold your tongue, Hazel. You've had your fun." She turned towards Dan. "You are dismissed to leave. Thank you for your patience."

As Dan hurriedly fled the room, he noticed in the corner of his eye Phil watching him. He probably saw everything, and now he thought him pathetic. _The stupid servant boy who was ridiculed by a noble, made to be a joke._  
The whole night was spoiled, and Dan decided to skip dessert and leave to his quarters. They had enough servants anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, inconsistency in updates is a trait of mine, apparently.
> 
> Second, thank you for the comments and kudos and everything! It means a lot to me :)

Lying awake until the small hours of morning, Dan realized his life would never get better. This was forever, he was always stuck to obey one person after another without any say in the matter.

He glared at the cruddy ceiling of his room, filled with cracks and stains that only further reminded Dan of the unfortunate circumstance he lived in.

Yes, he was young, only eighteen, but where else could Dan go from here? He barely had enough money to feed himself every night, let alone enough to travel to a different town or fief. He hadn't any family to live with either.

Dan let out a groan and flung his lumpy pillow at his wall out of a flash of sheer frustration. He forced himself to roll off his bed and retrieve his pillow, not wanting it to get dirty from the floor.  
Stars, He wanted out, and he was going to get out no matter what it took.

Sprawled across his bed once more, Dan's mind drifted towards the king's words spoken at supper earlier. _Prince Phillip is leaving for his journey tomorrow._

Phil would be alone on his quest for his princess. Dan felt sorry for him, because he was just as stuck as Dan was. They were two morose souls, each regretting what his life was forced to be, but knew they must continue living it.

_Stop it with the poetic inner monologues, Howell. Get it together._

With a sharp wave of memory, Dan's thoughts about Phil turned to cold resentment. For ignoring him, for watching him be ridiculed at that farewell dinner.

But...deep down, Dan knew Phil didn't mean it, and he longed to help Phil, who was much too kind and pure of heart to be forced to do something he didn't want to. To be miserable.  
He had so many odd feelings about Phil.

Suddenly Dan bolted up in his bed, gears turning in his brain.  
_Oh, it's mad. It's evil too, maybe that's what makes it genius._

If Dan was to _accompany_ Phil, he could help him. Be there for the prince, offer him friendship and guidance.

Then Dan could achieve the real underlying motives to his sudden charitable goodness. He could get out of this kingdom, leave this wretched service.  
By going with Phil on this journey he was guaranteed a safe, food-filled travel, and a believable cover.

Phil wouldn't refuse him. Dan had seen the fragile state the prince was in, how loneliness and anger had overtook him.

A feeling of guiltiness swept over Dan. Was he taking advantage of the prince, by twisting Phil's hopes of friendship and using it as means to leave quietly?

_But I'm doing something good as well. I'm being his friend_. Dan argued. _Phil wanted me to be his friend, right?_

He could be a friend to him before he disappeared into the duties of being a husband and a king.

Dan collapsed back on the bed, shaking his head. This was idiotic. He couldn't manipulate the only man who had never treated him like an inferior.   
On the other hand, this sole act wouldn't leave a stain on Dan's conscience. He had done worse things. Much worse.

_Ring, ring, ring_. He started as the castle bells rang richly, a sign that they were now letting people into the square. That must mean people were coming in to see the prince leave.

Dan leapt out of bed, tossing blankets off as he struggled out of his dinner clothes and into a plain shirt and trousers. He didn't have time to care about what he was wearing. Even if he wasn't going to go through with his plan, Dan wanted to at least say goodbye. He could catch Phil before he left if he ran fast enough.

• • •

_This isn't a good idea_.

Dan was currently wandering the empty stables, searching for Phil.  
_Phil would take a horse, wouldn't he?_ Dan chewed his lip.

Dan hadn't had a crumb of breakfast, could barely keep his eyes open, and didn't know where to begin to look for Phil. The putrid smell of horse was making his eyes water with tears too.

"Dan?"

Dan whipped around as Phil entered the clearing holding the reins of a horse. Phil stopped in front of Dan, a bewildered look in his eyes.

"Um. Hi." Dan began. The moment had come for Dan to start his plan. It was simple, really, Dan just had to plant the idea in Phil's brain with a well-crafted remark, then a beautiful idea would blossom from it.

"You are leaving today, aren't you?" Dan asked dumbly, knowing damn well that he was. His stomach was tangled in knots of nerves that he would never make apparent. He kept a shield of iron over his heart, and willed himself not to feel anything. His face would give nothing away.

Phil nodded. "Yeah. People are going to wave me off as I leave through the gates, it's all rather extravagant. However, it's lucky we ran into each other. I wanted to say goodbye to you."

Dan's heart jumped. "You did?"

Phil smiled at him. "Of course. We're friends, aren't we? Friends say goodbye to each other when they're leaving for a long time."

Stars, he was irritatingly alluring. Why did he have to be so _nice_? Why couldn't he have been a twat? Dan could have easily tricked a twat.

No. Dan could do this. He slowed his breathing to soothe his pounding heart.

"We've only known each other for a day." Dan pointed out. He didn't know why he said it.

Phil looked at him, his eyes piercing into Dan's like glittering diamonds. "I know. I would have liked to known you better."

Dan turned red in the face. _He can't just say things like that_.

Dan stared at the ground so Phil couldn't see his face, pushing at dirt with his shoe. His confidence was slipping farther away every minute, his shield as well.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I want to thank you for cheering me up yesterday. I needed someone to tell my woes to." Phil said, attempting to come across as lighthearted.

"It was nothing." Dan said, waving his hands dismissively. An awkward silence passed, neither knowing how to continue.

"Well, I guess I should say I hope you find your princess. Farewell, Prince Phillip." Dan finally said.

"Thank you." Phil replied, but he didn't look thankful.

"Goodbye." Phil turned his horse around, and almost made it to the the end of the path. Panic flashed through Dan's head, what was he doing? He was losing his opportunity, that's what.

  
_Say it before you lose your nerve._ Dan told himself.  
"Prince Phillip? Your Highness!" Phil turned around, facing him once again, a look of hope splashed on his face.

"I have an, er, offer to make." Dan called out. Dan quickly scurried to meet Phil, grateful that they were alone in the stable, it would save Dan the embarrassment if this went badly. He sucked in another breath.

"Do you need a servant to accompany you? Someone to prepare you meals, dress you, tend to your horse?" Dan asked hesitantly, not meeting Phil's eyes. He felt terribly false. Maybe he was overreacting.

Phil's blue eyes widened with realization. "You mean- you come with me?"

"That's the idea." He whispered. Spider-like tendrils of nerves snaked their way into Dan's throat.

Phil grinned mischievously, a twinkle in his eye. "Now that you mention it, a servant would be quite useful."  
He abandoned the horse and gripped Dan firmly by the shoulders instead. His face was so close to Dan's, he could see every tiny freckle and crinkle.

"My father would never allow you coming with me, he doesn't want servants coming on the trip with me. We'll have to smuggle you out."

"Okay." Dan said. He shifted under the weight and judgment of Phil's hands. He kept squashing the guilt down that threatened to appear.

"Meet me by the castle gates once I've ridden through the square. Then I'll grab you."

Dan paused, hopelessly watching as Phil paced the stables. Dan hated pacing, it reminded him of the ticking of a metronome. Back and forth, back and forth.

Phil faced Dan, thoughtfully tapping his slender fingers against his chin. "You'll have to go through the catacombs. Then you can come out through the cellar door, and tell the guards you're going to one of the outer villages."

Dan watched him, bemused. "You've got quite the plan."

Phil shrugged, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I'm a quick thinker, if that doesn't sound vain."

"Even if it did, I couldn't say." Dan said, only half-joking.

And Dan must have struck a nerve, because Phil looked at him with the saddest eyes imaginable, a melancholy shade of blue that artists would longed to have captured. "Please don't treat me as if I'm...above you. You're just as good as I am, and you are my friend. It's an insult to my character to think otherwise."

_This man is unreal_. Dan thought. Phil saying this only made Dan feel worse for what he was doing.  
"You must have an excellent character then." Dan replied.  
He shuffled his feet, and smiled through it all, he held desperate to his masquerade, knowing he was getting out of this bear-trap of a life, even if it killed him to do it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Also,I don't know if should mention this, but if you don't know Rawtenstall is the town Phil was born in.   
> In this fanfiction, it's just the name of the kingdom he lives in. I've just used the name, I have no idea what it really looks like! Sorry if that's weird.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with more.
> 
> None of my updates are in any sort of schedule I'm such a procrastinator.

Phil was starting to worry. Dan had not appeared, and Phil had been waiting for at least ten minutes now. He hoped he hadn't gotten himself in trouble, it would be Phil's fault if Dan lost his job. _Maybe he shouldn't have come through the catacombs. He might've been better disguised in the halls._

"Your Highness, if it's not too imprudent of me, I believe we should start our travels." Corporal Kendall suggested. He adjusted the Rawtenstall crest attached his armor, the movements making the lion emblazoned on it seem to come alive and prance.

"Not yet, Corporal. My father- His Majesty, I mean- is sending a servant to attend to me. He hasn't arrived yet." Phil explained, hoping he sounded convincing.

Corporal Kendall didn't press. "I understand, Your Highness."

Phil wasn't sure how much longer he waited, he saw birds fly by overhead, crying melodies. He heard his guards sigh with boredom numerous times, and he managed to fiddle with the leather knapsack tied to his horse so much he tore a strip off the handle.

Sitting on his horse, turned towards the horizon of possibilities and away from the castle, Phil could almost pretend that he wasn't the future king, that he wasn't going to find a princess to marry and was instead just enjoying the quiet breeze and the fresh smell of the grass just beginning to peak out from beneath the frost.

Suddenly, quiet traces of arguing crept up from the east side of the gates, and Phil straightened on his horse to try and catch a glimpse.

"I told you, I was asked to accompany His Highness. That's all there is to it." Dan's voice. He could tell by the indignant tone, and how his voice got higher at the end in protest.

"What's that?" One of the guards wondered. Phil silenced them with a gesture, perhaps a bit rude, but he wanted to hear the conversation.

"If I believed that, then I'm a monkey's uncle. Why were you sneaking around the cellars? Why not just go straight through the halls?" This voice seemed familiar, but Phil couldn't place it.

"I was not _sneaking around_. Don't you have some rooms to dust or something?"

"How dare you! I am not a hall boy, or a laundry boy like _you_! Laundry boys have no business in the catacombs. I am a valet in training, and if anyone is going to attend to His Royal Highness during his trip it will be me!"

Phil no longer had to keep guessing what was going on, as the two men appeared in front of the party. Phil recognized the latter man as the servant PJ, who immediately planted himself in front of Phil's steed.

"Your Highness. Corporal Kendall. I have just stopped this man from deceiving all of you. He claims to be traveling with you." PJ paused to send a glare towards Dan's direction, who simply stood rigid clutching a pack of what Phil assumed to be his belongings. His was expression sprinkled with annoyance.

"This cannot be true, as I know for a fact he's only a laundry boy and has no training whatsoever as a personal valet."

Phil saw Corporal Kendall glance at him, waiting for his response. In fact, everyone was waiting for him to speak.

"What he says is true. He is coming with us." Phil said, ignoring PJ's shocked face and the triple of guards' unanimously confused looks. "Don't misunderstand me, I am grateful you tried to stop any deceit." Phil quickly explained to PJ. "I also thank you for bringing him to me, we were just about to leave."

PJ looked like he wanted to say more, Dan remained in his stony state, and the sergeant began to speak.

"Your Highness, I hate to disagree with you, but you might be confused. A laundry servant would have no place attending to you for months. It would be best for this valet to travel with us." Corporal Kendall pointed out.

Phil didn't know how to argue with that reasoning. "I- I... I know. I don't need a valet, I wanted a laundry boy specifically- no, that doesn't make sense-look, can we please get on with our travels? I don't think the subject is worth arguing."

Corporal Barrow blinked, and Phil knew he didn't believe a word he had said. "Well, I agree with you there, sir. Come along."

"But- but what am I to do, Your Highness?" PJ cut in. He looked incredibly downcast. Phil felt bad for tossing him aside like a dirty washrag when he was only trying to help him.

Phil paused, another idea brewing in his mind. "Why don't you come along with us as well? I'm sure we can spare another horse for you as well." Phil suggested. There, it was all sorted now.

Dan shot him an annoyed look, in contrast to PJ's expression of satisfaction.

"Corporal Bates, get off your horse and give it to the valet, if it will only let us leave sooner. While you're at it, grab an extra tent, some blankets, food, and money for the lad." Corporal Kendall said, a steel edge to his tone.

Phil watched as Bates leapt off his horse with great force and waited for PJ to clamber onto it. The horses whinnied in harmony as their party urged forward, and it wasn't long before Phil was growing tiresome of the sound of horses hooves against the cold village streets, turning a bronze color with the sinking sun.

"We're going to the end of the village and take the main road straight on to Northridge Pass, Your Highness." One of the guards informed Phil.

"Yes. We're riding straight through the night." Corporal Bates added.

Phil nodded in agreement, and let reassurance take over his senses. He gazed at the village's shops and houses, planted in rows like a harmonious flower garden. No one paid any mind to their traveling party, they all were busy heading to their homes, and it wasn't odd to see a royal patrol roaming the streets. It felt very strange that Phil was leaving such a familiar place.

"Getting bored?" Phil glanced to the side as Dan guided his horse in Phil's direction, settling to ride beside him.

"I was going to suggest we play a game of pick-up-sticks to pass the time." Dan added dryly.

Phil smiled. Dan always seemed to know how to make him smile.

"We can once we stop to rest...oh." Phil trailed off, remembering that Corporal Kendall had said they were riding through the night.

Dan sighed. "It's going to be a long night, Phil."

• • •

A week had passed since Dan had left Rawtenstall. Their party was making their way through a seemingly endless grove, with plenty of soggy grass and tall trees. The days were melting into one and other, every cold night and dew-filled morning combining so Dan couldn't tell the difference.

He surveyed the morning sky, shadowed by canopies of fabric as he sat on his makeshift bed in silence. Much to his distaste, he saw PJ curled close to the pile of ashes from where they had lit their fire last night. He grinned when he saw his face and hair covered in soot. No doubt he was freezing, Dan was too. Served him right, for trying to get him in trouble. But he didn't seem to be awake.

 _Good_. Dan thought contently.

He liked mornings like this, where it was just him and his thoughts. No disturbances, no responsibilities. Then he was reminded of where he really was, as a bird screeched it's song and cold seeped through his blanket.

Dan sighed. He relished being away from the kingdom and not taking orders every spare second. But how he hated nature.

He liked to look at it, sure, but to come in direct contact with wet grass and bugs buzzing around was something he dreaded.

Slinking out of the servants tent and around the small camp they had made, Dan found the three guards he didn't care much about still in their tent sleeping. He stalked over towards Phil's small tent, and hesitated, reminding him of the nervousness he had faced when he had first met Phil. _Would it be rude to enter without warning? But I should go in and start preparing Phil's breakfast._

So he ducked under the flaps and wandered over towards Phil's cot, which was...empty.

Dan blinked, wondering if he wasn't seeing correctly. Cautiously crawling over, he flipped up the flattened pile of blankets just to make sure Phil wasn't hiding under them. Of course, Dan already knew he wouldn't be.

Dan sucked in a rackety breath. What was he going to do? He stumbled out of the tent, urging himself not to have a panic attack then and there.

"Prince Phillip?" He whispered, trampling over the blooming maiden's kiss sprinkled on the ground. He didn't care that he was crushing their delicate buds.

No response.

What was he going to do? He tugged at his sleeves viciously in a blind fear. He ducked in the bushes, searching all around for any signs of the missing black-haired boy. Would he be found responsible for losing the prince, seeing as he was the only one awake?  
No. He could fix this, he just needed help.

Dan frowned as he realized his options. The two guards, each who would probably punch him if he tried to rouse them. The other guard, the obvious leader, Dan didn't want to face. So that left PJ, the infuriating man who had almost jeopardized Dan's plan.

Striding briskly back into the flimsy tent they shared, Dan poked PJ with his foot twice. "PJ."

He made a noise, rolled over to shoot daggers at Dan, and closed his eyes again.

Dan groaned. "PJ, esteemed manservant and valet in training. His Highness needs your assistance."

That got him going. PJ flippantly tossed his blankets off and sat up, all the while glaring at Dan. "Prince Phillip? What does His Highness need with me, considering you are his apparent right hand man and a better valet to him than me."

Dan rolled his eyes. "I'm not his _right hand man,_ I have only just made his acquaintance." PJ scoffed at this, the blasted man. Wasn't he supposed to be unconditionally loyal to the kingdom?

  
"See here. Prince Phillip has...gone for a walk in the sunlight, but has seemed to have misplaced his handkerchief somewhere in the forest. I can't seem to find him, and you need to help me." Dan lied. It wasn't a possibility to tell him the truth.

"Is that so? And what have you done for me, that I should help you in your darkest hour? I should rather wear ladies' gowns."

 _That man wouldn't save his own life if I was the one who asked him to._ Dan thought, irritated at PJ's stubbornness.

  
"Listen. The prince doesn't have his handkerchief. He needs it. I wouldn't consider that my darkest hour. You wouldn't want to inconvenience him, would you?"

As the words fell from his lips, PJ gave him a long, hard look. "Suppose I don't believe you?"  
He then gathered his blankets anyway, tossing them in a potato-shaped lump, and disappeared into the forest like a thief in the night.

_I suppose I better go look myself._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm nice I'm posting another chapter along with this one soon.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Phil.

Dan bounded into the clearing, looking up trees and in thickets, all the while calling the prince's name like he was reciting a chant.  
The birds sang along with him, crying their tunes of melancholy and sorrow. He lost sight of their campsite, but knew he could find it if he just followed the path of trampled foliage he had left behind.

"Your Majesty, please!" Dan gasped, becoming short of breath from his frenetic searching. _Oh, why did he have to run off?_ Dan thought. What if an animal had dragged him somewhere? That was a possibility, and Phil being as naive as he was it was probably true.

 _Snap_. Dan's head shot up, looking to the left to find the source of the noise. It wasn't him, he had been standing in the same spot this whole time.

He carefully crept towards where spiky-looking bushes blocked his view. _Don't do it Dan, who knows what that sound was. Feral animals are in this forest._ His instincts warned him.  
Stars, he hated dilemmas like this. Dan's curiosity drew him towards the mystery, but his imagination tended to blow the situation out of proportion.

He pulled back the branches of the bushes, certain he was going to be face to face with a vicious bear, or some other unholy beast.

Instead, the complete opposite was sitting under the slender boughs of a large mossy tree.

Phil.

Dan smiled as the prince held what looked like an acorn in his palm. He was trying to offer it to an fidgety squirrel, who wasn't interested in the least. Of course, Phil didn't seem to understand this.

"Come now, I won't hurt you. Don't you want an acorn, little friend?" Phil asked, his voice soft. His blue eyes were filled with a sweet awe, and it made Dan want to jump off the nearest cliff. He should be fighting these feelings, packing them away in the recesses of his soul. But he found himself lingering too long on Phil's gentle face anyway.  
_Dan, you're getting attached. You're getting attached and you barely know him._ The thought startled him.

As the squirrel scurried away from Phil, Dan decided to make himself apparent so he wasn't standing there like a fool. He cleared his throat, which was closing by the minute.

"Oh! Hello, Dan." Phil said, obviously embarrassed. The acorn tumbled from his hand. "I was just...,"

"Having a thought-provoking conversation with a squirrel?" Dan teased, kneeling beside Phil. He wasn't truly trying to be mocking, he just wanted a way to not think. Phil laughed giddily, his tongue poking out adorably, a torture in its own sense. Dan had turned a brilliant pink that wasn't easy to hide.

"No!" Phil exclaimed. He paused to reconsider. "Well, he wasn't being very cordial anyway. I was giving him food and he refused it."

"That ratty old acorn? I wouldn't want it either."

Phil frowned, rolling the discarded acorn between his fingers. "So it's got a few scratches. The inside is what really matters."

Dan simply turged away from Phil and settled onto the ground as a response. "You've worried us. PJ and I were searching for you."

Dan waited for Phil to start speaking again, making apologies like the sweetheart he was, but he didn't.

Phil, the bastard, began to laugh, and laugh, and laugh, until he had curled up against Dan in a clump of defeat. Dan scoffed at this, an furious look settling on his face.

"I can't be left to my own devices for one moment? Everyone frets after me like I'm a child." Phil finally said, wiping his eyes.

Anger sparked in Dan like two rocks clashing against each other. He hadn't known what had happened to Phil, he could've gotten in serious turmoil. Was it so ridiculous to be concerned?

"No, Your Highness. Not you. One misstep and you endanger our party and the entire kingdom alike." Dan muttered coldly.

He hoped by the forcefulness in which he had spoken with that Phil understood the gravity of this situation. He was Rawtenstall's future king, who had no real experience in the wilderness at all. If he was to disappear...

"I apologize. I suppose you were tearing apart Heaven and Earth to find me." Phil said, stretching across the ground. The humor in Phil's voice was gone.

"Of course, Phil." Dan, falling silent. He spread out to lie next to Phil, and watched the trees for a while, listened to the whispering of the breeze against leaves. "You're very important to the kingdom."  
He wondered what it would be like to fade into the wind, fly a little while. He imagined it would be like a dream, where he wouldn't have to think so much all the time.  
Dan was suddenly very aware of Phil's warm shoulder pressing into his own.

"You're a good friend to me Dan. Thank you." Phil suddenly said, turning to face him. His black hair dripped onto his forehead like ink from a quill, contrasting his blue eyes well. His eyes were full of invitation, promises of friendship, of companionship.

Friend? Dan didn't believe he truly was Phil's friend. Dan would only cause trouble for Phil, the poisonous thoughts Dan had about him.

"Phil." Dan said, his voice weighted with lead. "We've known each other for a week. You don't know anything about me. Nothing at all, and if you did you wouldn't like me so much."

Phil rolled over and studied him, seeming to be unconvinced. _Couldn't he just believe me?_ Dan thought miserably. Because it was true. Phil _wouldn't_ like him if he knew the things he had done in the past. Things that never went away even if other, better memories drifted away.

"No. I do know things about you. Look. You are- a rose bush. A large one, that rises tall and shadows over all the other plants in the forest." Phil gesticulated as he flung his arms wide.

"Oh, that reassures me." Dan shot back. He couldn't miss the opportunity to make a sarcastic comment.

"No, I'm serious. You pretend to be covered in thorns, that you're sharp and clever and assertive." For emphasis, Phil poked Dan in the arm.  
"And you hardly aren't, mind you, but you forget that you have roses as well. The wiseness you have, the curiousity within your heart that prompted you to ask a lonely prince if he was alright."  
Phil had a sparkle in his eyes. Dan was sure his gaze was dull like rusty armor.

Dan shook his head. "You're mistaken, Phil. There's nothing more to be said on the matter." The quiet settled back in, like a sickening disease. He hated it. Perhaps what he really hated was that Phil could read him like a blasted book.

"PJ will be searching for you. I ought to find him and make something up." Dan said, climbing up from his spot so he now towered over Phil.  
He hadn't realized how close they had been lying next to each other. The thought gave Dan a florid complexion.

"Wait, don't go yet. I have something important to tell you." Phil protested, pulling Dan down towards him so he was sitting again. He scooted closer to Dan, who scooted farther away. 

Dan gave him a look. "Is that so?"

"Yes." Phil said, and a look of darkness overcame his gaze.

 _So something is wrong,_ Dan concluded. Perplexing.

"The reason I'm out here...I've had a...dream. Since I have, magic, I get special dreams sometimes. Like...prophecies, almost. Visions." Phil said, choosing his words carefully, like it was uncomfortable to explain. Dan was intrigued, anything involving the strange concept of magic interested Dan.

"This one was unsettling. It was about death. The feeling loomed over the dream. I saw Corporal Kendall and the guards, PJ...you. Everyone was in danger." He looked solemnly at Dan, who didn't know what to think. Phil sounded utterly insane.  
"I think someone is going to die soon."

  
• • •

Lifelessness. The feeling was surrounding the scene, strangling Phil, putting darkness in his vision. The only thing he could see through the haze was floating lights, bobbing towards his person. He couldn't get up, couldn't move. Phil wondered if this was what dying felt like, if the lights were angels coming to take him away to somewhere different. They came closer, closer...

"Your Highness. Prince Phillip."

Phil's eyes snapped open as he was shaken awake from his hellish nightmare. Four days later, and Phil was still having the same dream. Corporal Jones was leaning over him, a look of worry splashed on his face.

"I'm alright." Phil reassured him, though he felt quite the opposite. He didn't want to frighten the man, who looked as though he'd seen death itself.

"I- Your Highness, it's not that. We're under attack. Come quickly." The corporal pulled at his arm urgently.

" _What?"_

 _Under attack?_ Phil ripped his arm away from the corporal and sank back onto his cot from the sudden shock. This was not happening.

"Yes I'm afraid so-," The corporal then suddenly threw himself in front of Phil's body, acting like a shield. "Your Highness, _get out of here!_ Go!"

Two men then stalked into the tent, with the purpose of two cocky wolves. Their hoods had been pulled far over their heads and swords clenched in their hands.

A sword was thrust under the nose of Corporal Jones, like a snake waiting to strike. Phil struggled to remember any spells that might ward off these men, but he was merely grasping at smoke.

"You got any gold, boy? Sure looks like you do, with all your uppity tents." The first man snarled. Phil took this opportunity to account the crookedness of the man's teeth. "Damn royalists. Always flaunting their wealth."

Phil's eyes drifted down towards where Corporal Jones's hand was slowing inching it's way down to his sword. _So he has a plan_. Phil thought. _I do not._

"Seems to me like they got somethin' greater than gold. Did he call you, 'Your Highness'?" The second man craned his head to try and look at Phil from the side. "I'm sure someone'd pay a pretty price for your head, love."

Phil's breathing hitched as the corporal swung his sword at the first man, bringing his sword away from his face. All hell broke loose as Phil scrambled off the cot and raced for the exit, tripping over his feet. He stopped to watch the flurry of fists, swords, and clanging armor between Corporal Jones and the hoodlum.  
He remembered not to use his magic in front of everyone, despite the overwhelming urge to. If he could just gather his wits-

Phil let out a muffled cry as two arms wrapped around his throat and midsection, stopping him from moving any further.  
His frantic gaze drifted towards the shield and sword leaning against the wall.

The hooded figure was skilled in fighting, so skilled Corporal Jones had trouble matching his blows. They were performing a sort of deadly waltz, where one knew the beat of the music and they other was falling behind. Phil might be able to break free and help him. If he could overpower this man-

"Argh!" Phil yelled as he slammed his elbow blindly back into the man. He had the advantage of height in the situation, but still, the other man was able to slam something against his head before Phil got any further. A splitting pain shot through his skull, and he sank to his knees.

He blinked twice, dazed, and tried to turn around smartly to see his attacker, to do something, when he was struck in the mouth. This time, his vision was spotting with black and his head still pulsed.

He managed to crawl a few paces away in between attacks and throw his hands up in a protective stance. Phil was then able to block one of the swings by the hooded man.

What he didn't block, was another incredibly strong and well placed blow to the top of his head, that only intensified the throbbing and increased the amount of pain he was in. He felt himself being kicked, over and over.  
Phil sucked in deep, ragged breaths as he coiled himself in a ball. He wished he would just pass out already, so the constant pounding in his brain would cease. His assailant then left him on the ground, probably assuming he was out for the count.

Somewhere in the background noises of the thumping in his mind, Phil heard the dreadful sound of a sword clanking to the ground, and Phil knew then he had failed his guard. _Perhaps I have failed myself as well._

He shut his eyes, defeat and exhaustion closing in on him. The throbbing faded in exchange for a familiar burning feeling, and Phil began to shake with sensation, the overwhelming bursts of energy and magic splitting him apart.  
Delirium had begun to sink in, and Phil couldn't place where or when this feeling had happened before.

But when it was over, peace spread throughout Phil's body. He was sure he was floating, high in the clouds and above the treetops. He thought he saw the stars, but that must've been from the blows on his head.

He was going to die here, Phil was sure of it. He would never see his mother or father again, which didn't upset him as much as it should've. He would never get a chance to sit on his father's throne and rule his kingdom. Who would take the crown, if Phil was dead? A distant cousin?

Phil would never see Dan again, and perhaps that was what most frightened him about death. He would be absolutely and completely solitary, with no brown-haired boy with a suspicious mind and a heart of gold by his side. He didn't want to live in a world without Dan.

That was when Phil lost consciousness, and fell into a deep sleep, thoughts about the younger boy dancing round his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna take a break for thanksgiving and all that...so there won't be a chapter until after next week or so! So I made this chapter a little longer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again. I'm gonna post again very soon to make up for lost time!

Phil awoke from a dreamless sleep to the sound of a wild animal dying, letting out pained braying noises as they took their last breaths.

No, wait. That wasn't what it was.

He pried open his eyes, wincing at the ache in his head as he faced the calm sunlight filtering in from outside. He felt like a large, dense cloud of fogginess, a mixture of drowsiness and pain. He was in his tent, tucked in his cot to be specific. He couldn't remember how he had got here. The last thing he remembered was the blow to his head.

_Oh, but that sound!_ It was even louder when he opened his eyes!

His ears led him to the source of the noise, a sleeping and very loudly snoring Dan in a chair, using a large book on Phil's table as a pillow. Phil felt an odd feeling in his chest, that made his stomach flutter and his heart swell. He felt...drawn to Dan.

Phil didn't know why.

Dan's hair was sleep-mussed, even more unruly than it usually was, but it still looked nice. His cheek was squished against the book, mouth hanging open as he droned on, and Phil supposed it could be found unattractive by most. Phil found the sight of a snoring and at peace Dan comforting.

Phil somehow ended up next to the young man, and he instinctively reached over and gently tried to remove the book Dan's face was plastered on.

Suddenly the lull of snoring was cut off by a startled gasp as Dan's eyes flew open and he swung his fist at Phil. "Get the hell away from me!"

"Dan, Dan! It's just me." Phil exclaimed, jumping back.

"Phil." Dan said, sounding stunned and still vaguely threatening. Phil took a step back for good measure."Oh....I'm sorry. You're awake."

"Last time I checked." Phil offered. "You have marvelous reflexes, by the way. Almost took my eye out."

"Don't be cheeky." Dan warned. "Everyone was in such a worry...I thought...," Dan cut off and huffed. Phil thought for a moment that that Dan was charging at him to tackle him to the ground, but something entirely different happened.

Dan wound his arms around Phil and pulled him into a tight hug. After a beat, Phil slowly wrapped his own arms around the younger boy, whose hair was tickling Phil's cheek. Phil felt that odd warm feeling again. "Hey, I'm ok." Phil whispered to Dan, trying to reassure him.

"I don't normally say this to people, much less to princes, but I'm glad you weren't hurt too badly." Dan muttered behind Phil's ear. He shifted against Phil, and pulled back.

And then they were staring at each other too long, brown eyes on blue, and Phil felt like when he had opened his eyes this morning he had just only begun to see the world. Every little detail of Dan was very visible to Phil, and he felt an overwhelming urge to fix a strand of hair that had fallen in Dan's face, put it back in its place with the rest of Dan's hair.

"Were you with me all yesterday?" Phil asked, breaking off the stare. He was becoming unfocused, scattered, but maybe it was just the injuries to his head. _Was this what friendship was supposed to feel like? I don't have anything to compare it to._

Somewhere out of view, Dan nodded. "I'm your dedicated servant, remember?" He leaned down against the table, fiddling with the pages of the book.

Phil rubbed his face, grimacing. He reached in his bag, and pulled out a small mirror. His lip was split. His head was bandaged tightly, and slightly throbbed with every blink Phil took. "What happened?" He slowly asked.

Dan looked at his hands, and a funny look came over his face. "We were attacked. Just stupid, plain  _thieves_ , lucky enough that they ran into the royal traveling party. They took one of our horses, they took some of our food. They didn't find your money, oddly enough."

"But, why didn't anyone else know we were under attack?" Phil interrupted, only remembering seeing Corporal Jones.

"They only went to your tent, guess they figured they'd find the gold in the biggest one. Jones was the only one on duty, and saw them coming. He tried to get you out of there. Once we heard you shout, Corporal Kendall and Bates came."

This time Dan looked straight at him. "You have a head injury, it might take a week or so to heal up completely, Corporal Bates said. Corporal Kendall thinks they also might've tried to jinx you, you were... glowing yellow when we found you."

Phil's eyes widened. Oh, so something had happened. "No, I wasn't cursed. That was my own magic."

Dan stared at him like he had a third eye. "What?"

Phil laughed awkwardly for a while, not knowing what else to do. How was he going to explain to Dan that he just happened to glow whenever he felt extreme emotions? He didn't understand the concept himself.

"Um. It's complicated. I guess the easiest way to put it is...I glow when I'm stressed?" Phil answered uncertainly. Dead silence spread through the tent as Dan tried to process what Phil had said. Phil felt unimaginably embarrassed.

"Oh. Well. That's not the strangest thing someone's told me before." Dan said with a deep yawn. He slumped back against the chair with all the grace of a large bear.

Phil watched Dan for a moment, watched him as he stared into space blankly, before a thought occurred to Phil.

"Corporal Jones didn't make it, did he?" Phil said suddenly.

Dan snapped into focus after that, and nodded, turning around to face him. "He was dead when we got there." Phil could see he was trying to break the news delicately.

Remorse overcame Phil, it hit him as hard as the robbers had last night. Deep down, Phil had known Jones hadn't made it out, but he hadn't really faced the thoughts. Jones had tried to protect Phil, he had gave his life trying. And Phil, Phil had just stood there, let himself be taken down. If I had only reached the sword in time..

"It's not your fault." Dan said firmly, standing to look at him with concerned eyes.

"No, it is." Phil said, his voice wobbly. "I- I could've grabbed the sword, I could've used a spell-,"

"His duty was to protect you. He was a member of the guard."

Phil's head felt like it was spinning, his breathing turned short and fast. All of that was logical, it made sense, but Phil somehow couldn't understand.

"No, no, I had time, I should've saved him." He somehow found Dan's arm, and he anchored himself to it, squeezing Dan tightly to steady himself, distressed.

"I wasn't good enough to save him, I am the weak, failure prince, the second-best son, and even out here, miles away from the castle, I can't escape my father's reprimands." Phil said, almost shouting now, and he could see his father's eyes as it happened. They were burning into him, they gouged scratches into his arms and scattered bruises against his skin.

He saw his brother too, his limp form unnaturally sprawled in his bed as the healer informed them that he was gone from this world. He saw his mother and father weeping, and he remembered the gray, the glow that had cast on him that day. His father ordering him out of the room, he wouldn't even let him look at his own dead brother, he couldn't bear to look at what he was stuck with...

"Phil. Phillip. Calm down." Dan, his voice steady against Phil's pounding ears. His arm between Phil's fingers. Little reminders that Phil wasn't alone. "You're just in shock."

Phil stared at Dan blankly, found shelter in his constant brown eyes.

"Yes. You're right, of course." Phil said quietly, taking in small breaths.

He wasn't going to lose his head. He was going to release Dan's arm. He was going to sit on the cot.

_You're not alone. You're not alone._ Phil repeated in his mind.

"Your Highness?" Phil was shaken out of his ordeal as Corporal Kendall entered the tent, a stressed frown on his face. His eyes shifted between Phil and Dan, his eyes narrowing. Phil didn't know what that meant, he never knew what Corporal Kendall was thinking. The man was like that, all business, never giving away his thoughts. Phil wondered what Corporal Kendall was like outside of his palace work, if he was as stoic as he was now, or more lighthearted.

"Corporal Kendall." Phil answered. He straightened himself, put on his princely face and an authoritative tone. He could always do that easily.

"I'd like to discuss some things with you, things for your safety." He said reluctantly, like he didn't like talking about it. Phil's safety, which wouldn't even be a concern if they hadn't been attacked.

"I trust you told him everything that happened two days ago." Corporal Kendall added, addressing Dan. Dan nodded. Phil again thought of Corporal Jones, panic threatening to reappear.

"I'm listening." Phil quickly replied, trying to focus on the conversation. He glanced at Dan, who looked awkwardly between Corporal Kendall and Phil.

"Should I leave, Your Highness?" Dan asked, turning to look at Phil.

"No. Stay." Phil said immediately. He needed Dan's presence, a resilient force against his own.

Phil caught the flash of alarm in Corporal Kendall's eyes. Phil didn't know what he was thinking about them, and he didn't really care.  
"Carry on, Corporal." Phil encouraged him. Phil himself didn't feel like saying much.

"Yes, well. I think we should have you travel in plainclothes from now on. Not in your nice...prince-like clothes." Corporal Kendall started. Phil self-consciously glanced down at his body, then realizing he was wearing his nightclothes.  
"For your protection, Your Highness, it might be best to try and blend in with the common folk."

He tried to think of what garments he had been wearing so far. A gaudy blue jacket buttoned up with brass, trousers with embroidery up and down the sides. He winced at the thought. He would gladly rid himself of them.

Phil then looked at Dan's outfit of choice, a loose shirt laced at the chest, comfortable brown trousers, boots. He noticed Corporal Kendall had changed out of his own guard uniform, and into similar wear.

Phil nodded, feeling oddly embarrassed. It was probably obvious to a blind man that Phil was of royal descent. It was easy to tell he didn't belong. No matter what he did, Phil would stick out.

"We also won't be using the tents anymore." Corporal Kendall continued. "In several days we'll cross the border from Rawtenstall territory into Rivertown territory. There'll be villages along the way to the forest, so we can just stay in pubs. We won't know what will greet us in the slums of that kingdom."

Phil sighed. "Anything you say, Corporal."

I should just let Corporal Kendall make all the decisions from now on. Phil didn't know anything about what awaited him outside the castle, he had always been sheltered away from the harsh realities of life. Death and robberies shocked him.

"I'm glad you agree to my ideas, Prince Phillip." Corporal Kendall said finally. "I should be going now, let you get some more rest."

"I think that would be best." Phil complied. His eyes followed the exiting man as he bowed and left the tent, disappearing into the bright greenery from outside. Phil then turned his attention to Dan, who was sitting at the table fiddling with his sleeves.

"Can I show you something?" Phil questioned. It felt familiar to say to Dan, he had asked him the same question not too long ago. The same excitement was felt inside Phil, the thrill of keeping secrets and having someone to share them with.

"And what exactly are you going to show me?" Dan countered. Phil had a feeling Dan already knew.

Phil grinned. He scrambled off his cot and pulled the mattress off in a flurry. Hidden underneath was Phil's satchel, where he kept his spellbook and his bag of coins.

"I haven't been practising lately. I should be." Phil scolded himself. His magic was going to be floundering.

"Are you sure you won't hurt yourself?"

"No, I'll- I'll be fine." Phil replied. He was uncertain, if he would be able to find the courage to perform.  
But he pushed open the book cover, flipping the pages until he found something he liked, something he knew would impress Dan. Dan joined him on the bed, sitting a comfortable distance away.

"I could show you more simple, practical things, like this." Phil waved his hand, not even needing to say a spell, easily lighting up a candle sitting on the table across the room. "Or this." Phil added, making a shirt flip over.

He was simply building up his act, like a magician in a street show, creating momentum and build-up. He watched Dan chuckle slightly, a deep sound that made Phil smile.

"But that wouldn't be as much fun."  
Phil said, and closed his eyes, mustering up any ounce of energy he had inside himself. Phil stared once more at the wrinkled paper of the spell book, studying the spell, before speaking the words.  
"Solis." He said, letting the word roll off his tongue.

Phil heard Dan's sharp intake of breath as Phil began to spin a bright ball of light between his hands, pulling it and shaping it into luminous spirals. He expanded the pulsing ball of light until it resembled a small sun rising in the horizon. Dan, completely mesmerized, extended a hand to reach out and glide his fingers along the warm-hued beams.

Phil watched Dan wiggle his fingers into the center of the ball, watched as the light cast a pretty glow on his face. His chocolate hair turned a buttery caramel, his alabaster skin turned golden. He was the sun himself, absorbing all the life and warmth surrounding him.

Suddenly, Phil lost his concentration and with a steep drop, the ball of light zoomed towards the ground and seeped into the dirt. Dan jerked back, alarmed at the sudden disappearance and movement.

"Sorry, um," Phil quickly sputtered out. He smiled apologetically at Dan. "I was...distracted."

_You certainly were, Phil Lester._ Phil thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil's starting to realize things ;) This chapter and the next one will be pretty fluffy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would've updated sooner, but I didn't save my chapter and part of it was deleted!
> 
> Oh well, it's up now.

"So, you're here on important Rawtenstall business?"

"That's correct." Corporal Kendall said, presenting the crest forged into the metal plate on his armor. He didn't bother to mention the fact that they were in fact traveling with the prince of Rawtenstall himself.

"Toll fee, please." The man didn't bother to glance up or question further. Dan assumed he longed to go home, not standing at a cold  bridge over a boggy river waiting on travelers who needed passage.

Dan knew the feeling.

Dan was being forced to walk the entire journey now, with Dan's horse stolen and Phil being overruled in suggesting Dan take his horse instead. His boots were covered in mud, his feet aching and wet, and his spirit broken. He hoped Rivertown was better than what he had seen so far.

Oh, he longed for the days when the most activity he had to do was serving food and washing clothes.

At least he saw Phil everyday.

Dan was learning how to repress his feelings better, to not always stare at Phil like he was the picture of beauty himself, to not act like he was the kindest and sweetest soul Dan had ever met. He was forcing himself to view Phil as a friend, as he should.

At least, that's what he told himself was happening. It wasn't like Dan regretted every touch he gave Phil, every unseen glance.

It made him angry, that he had these feelings that he couldn't face or show or act on. Thinking romantic thoughts about men, that could get him killed, tortured, and flayed alive for the vultures to pick at. Especially thoughts involving a prince who didn't feel the same, who never could feel the same. He was promised to another.

Dan shook his head and forced himself to stare at the ground, watch the muddy road sink down like a viscous soup under Dan's boots. He wished he could sink down, down, down, and disappear completely. He hated thinking so much about things.

_"There's all kinds of grasses out there, you just have to know what to look for." Phil had explained to Dan one day, excitement dancing in his eyes as he pointed out different plants. "I know loads, I love plants." He went on to ramble out several names of grasses, most of which Dan couldn't remember._

That was ages ago, but it still stuck in Dan's memory.

Dan squinted hard at the ground, at all the shades of green blending together like a smeared painting. He tried to pick out a specific type of grass, to identify _something_.

No, all the grasses looked the same to Dan.

But he did see something else out of the ordinary other than grass, a pretty blue bunch of flowers that reminded Dan of the bright sky and more to Dan's interest, Phil's eyes.

After a moment of contemplation, he bent down and yanked a few out of the ground, placing them securely in his coat pocket.

"Dan! Oh Daniel! Stopping to smell the roses?" Dan whipped around as PJ reined in his horse, lumbering off of it to begin mocking Dan. His curly hair was bobbing wth his movements, and Dan wanted to snip every single strand off of his haughty head.

 _Dear God, not you,_ Dan thought.

"Don't. Call. Me. Daniel." Dan growled, standing up briskly to rival PJ's height. Dan was quite tall for his age, and PJ wasn't quite as looming or limber as him.

"Well, is it not your given name?" PJ said, not intimidated in the slightest. He didn't give Dan a chance to speak before continuing.

"Anyway, I can't wait until we reach the nearest tavern." PJ grumbled, placing his hands on his hips gloomily. "My feet are cold, and the hen of my cloak is wet from the river."

Dan glared at him. "Why are you telling me this, I don't care. Why don't you go and ride your horse? It must be nice, not having to walk."

PJ looked as if he was going to reply to that, he never shut up anyway, but Corporal Kendall approached the pair.

"Having a nice chat, are we, girls? You're falling behind the others! Get your behinds out of the mud and get back on the move!" Corporal Kendall snapped at them as he turned his horse around to stare at them incriminatingly. The other corporal, Bates, watched as well. Phil was oblivious to what was happening, and continued riding. "We'll never reach a warm bed and a hot meal at this rate." He muttered.

PJ scurried back towards his horse like some sort of reprimanded child, while Dan simply began walking again. He felt Corporal Kendall's watchful eyes on his back, and he kept his head down.

"You. I'd like to talk with you, if that's alright. Go on ahead, meet us at the first house you see." The corporal said, using his horse to block Dan's way as he directed the rest of the party away.

Dan's mouth quirked up to one side. It wasn't a choice at all, and politeness wasn't going to cover that up. 

"What did you wish to discuss with me, sir?" Dan questioned, keeping up the pleasantries. 

Corporal Kendall studied him for a while, sizing him up while Dan assumed he tried to figure out how to say whatever was on his mind. He was ever the schemer, knowing how to choose his words carefully.

"You're pretty close to Prince Phillip, aren't you?" 

Dan's eyebrows raised. "I wouldn't say _close,_  Corporal. Just on friendly terms. I am his valet." 

Corporal Kendall scoffed, Dan's lip twitched.

"I don't swallow that for a minute, Howell. I don't know how you ever ended up coming along with us anyway. But His Highness has become entirely attached to you, and I've never seen him like this." 

Dan bristled. "He's not attached to me-,"

"Stop lying. I don't have a problem with you yet, Howell, but I might if you keep talking." Corporal Kendall snapped. "I'm just saying, Prince Phillip might be...delusioned in his thinking. He's never had any friends, you're the first. And maybe, he might be mistaking his feelings for you as something else." 

Something else. Dan knew exactly what Corporal Kendall was thinking, he had thought the same thing many times. A fluttering spread through his stomach.

"You don't mean to suggest that..." He felt nervous saying the words, and couldn't finish. Dan felt like someone at that moment could see right into his mind and find the feelings Dan had stored away tightly, find that Dan wasn't repulsed by the thought of Phil being in love with him, that that actually would be incredible to Dan-

"I think that Phil is going through a difficult period in his life. He feels as if his life is all changing. He's scared to get married, he's scared to become king, and he's trying to sort out his feelings through you. He might _think_ he feels an attraction to you because he's experiencing lots of new things at once. But he'll get over that." 

 _You're wrong._ Dan thought. _He's not scared, he just doesn't want to be king._

"You cannot allow him to mistake his friendship for love." Corporal Kendall shuddered slightly. "Even the thought of it makes me feel sick. Once he's married to his princess all will be fixed. You'll go back to being a servant."

 _Wrong again._ Dan noted. _I'll be long gone by then, I won't go back to washing clothes._

"I can't believe that to be true. He's not in love with me. It's against human nature, it's unholy." Dan said, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. He must pretend he was revolted, if he didn't, that would endanger him.

Corporal Kendall sighed. "Look, I know what love looks like. You get all dopey-eyed and giddy, you go out of your way to make that person happy. You look at that person like they're your whole world, that they're at the center of your universe. That's how Prince Phillip acts with you. And that's not right." 

All the thoughts that Dan had been fighting to hide resurfaced once again.  _Was_ Phil taken with him? 

Dan stared down at his feet. "So you want me to distance myself from Prince Phillip." He already knew the corporal's answer.

"Yes. You won't be His Highness's valet anymore, the duties will permanently transfer to PJ." Corporal Kendall added. Seeming to think their conversation was finished, Corporal Kendall clambered back onto his horse.

"Oh, Corporal?" Dan, unable to resist, called after him. "The prince is not a child anymore. He can make his own decisions."

Corporal Kendall yanked on his horse, stopping to turn to Dan. "I'm not the enemy, Howell. I'm trying to keep this kingdom from falling apart, to make sure there's a king on that throne."

"The kingdom won't be saved by hurting Phil in the process." Dan retorted, clenching his fist in anger.

Corporal Kendall looked at him pointedly. "You see what I mean?" 

Dan paused. "What?"

"You called him 'Phil'. No servant would dare call a prince something so informal." Dan was rendered into silence, mentally cursing himself. _Why did I call him Phil?_

The sound of horse hooves began as Corporal Kendall left Dan behind, having gotten the last word and ended the conversation.

Dan remained, a lone figure in the cold.

He was well behind anyway.

He took out the flower he had jammed into his pocket, gazing at it remorsefully. Part of him urges him to drop it, and grind the delicate petals into dust. Dan chuckled to himself. He didn't know why he was making such a big deal out of a silly flower.

He put it back into his pocket anyways. He turned and faced the road ahead, towards Rivertown, towards happier thoughts.

• • •

That night, when the fire was dying and the stars had come out to shine, when everyone was asleep out under the moon's light, Dan took out the flower. He twirled it around by its stem absentmindedly, sleep yet to come to him. He had too many problems.

"What have you got there?" Phil's whisper drifted across the small mass of sleeping bodies, like the smoke coursing from the embers of the fire before them. He carefully crept over to Dan, settling down beside him.

"You're supposed to be sleeping." Dan replied, sliding his eyes to meet Phil's.

"So are you."

Dan didn't answer to that. "It's just a flower I found. I- well- actually, I was saving it for...you." Dan struggled to say.

"For me?" Surprise laced Phil's tone. He copyed Dan's actions and spun the plant by the stem, admiring it.

"Because you like plants, and all that." Dan said, a little quieter this time. _He thinks I'm stupid, he must._  
"Sorry, I shouldn't of-,"

"No, I like it." Phil said, silencing Dan. "It's a beautiful thing." He added softly, and Dan could see Phil's cheek tense as he smiled slightly, cutting through the darkness.

Dan didn't know why, but he held the last thing Phil had said in his mind closely. _It's a beautiful thing_. Looking at Phil, his mind echoed the thought. He was beautiful, like birds and music and magic and...flowers.

He pulled away quickly.

"Can I ask you something Dan?" 

Dan shut his eyes, weary but not sleepy. "Yes." 

"Why don't you want to be my valet anymore? Is it my tasks? I try to keep them simple, but I can stop asking for you to help me clean my shoes-," 

Dan bit out a dry laugh, stopping Phil from continuing his frenzy. "Is that what Corporal Kendall told you?" 

"I- how did you know it was him?" Phil asked. 

"I had a hunch." Dan said. A _very_ reliable hunch. "I do want to be your valet." 

"Then is what Corporal Kendall told me not true?"

Dan sighed."It doesn't matter. Give my job to PJ, I'll play the cook from now on. I'm sure PJ'll be delighted anyway." He muttered. 

Phil ogled him, millions of questions forming in his eyes.  Dan stared up at the stars instead of him.

"Go to sleep, Prince Phillip, and I hope you dream of sweeter things than this." He said, his voice sounding foreign to him. Quiet and weak.

"Sweeter than...what?" Phil asked, obviously confused. 

"Anything, Phil." He was so, so tired.

Fingers grazed Dan's hand, Phil's fingers. Phil looked at him sympathetically. 

"Dream sweet things too, alright?" Phil simply said. "Chin up."

Dan shook his head as he watched Phil's retreating form go back to his sleeping roll.

He couldn't keep doing this. Awkward glances, and kind gestures, it was all new to him. It was like he was drunk on the feeling of excitement and love, and kept drinking more and more.

He kept poisoning himself.

And now that Dan was on the precipice of what he wanted, when he was so close to Phil, Dan realized with a heavy heart, he would have to stop.

  
He would have to leave.

He would change his plan, he would go now so he didn't hurt Phil's future. He could steal some rations of food, leave before Phil found his princess. Stealing wasn't unfamiliar to him, he had done it most of his life.

He could do it. He would do it.

Dan didn't sleep the rest of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst is coming. Dan is angry. 
> 
> 2016 is over finally.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long. I've been kind of down lately, and I've had this ready to go for three days, I just haven't had the motivation to post it. But here it is now!

Oddly enough, there weren't many rivers in Rivertown. Only one, that stretched around the entirety of the town and dissolved into the surrounding forests.

What Rivertown did have was noise. From every street, shop, or house. He heard unidentifiable languages, shouting, yelling, banging. It was a change from the peaceful castle life, and even the soothing forest journey Phil was used to.

There were peddlers who carried exotic spices and fabrics, farmers with fresh fruit and bread, and even magical trinkets hung from some carts. Phil felt the pull of the magic wafting off of a silver amulet, and the unusually colored potions an old man carried in his hand.

It made the horses antsy, it made Phil feel alive. Everything was so different and odd, Phil and his magic and titles wouldn't stick out. He could just be himself, not a prince, or an outcast.

"Lets find somewhere to put the horses, Corporal Kendall." Phil said. He was dying to get off his horse and go exploring. He was tired of endless traveling.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Corporal Kendall took the lead as they maneuvered their way through the crowds of people.

They ended up at a small inn, renting a room out. The two guards gladly collapsed on their bed, while PJ, Phil, and Dan all stood awkwardly around the remaining one. Nobody knew what to do about the lack of sleeping arrangements.

"I'll take the chair tonight." Phil offered, sitting down in a stuffed chair, with stains and stitches and gave off the impression something foul had happened on it.

"Your Highness, don't be silly! I'll take that chair, you get the bed. _Dan_ can sleep on the floor." PJ exclaimed, hurrying over to Phil and dragging him out the chair. Phil caught a flick of annoyance in Dan's eyes and he was sat on the bed.

"PJ, let him make his own decisions." Dan muttered to PJ, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

Phil craned his head, trying to give a gracious smile to Dan. Come to think of it, Dan hadn't said a word to him today. The thought sent a jolt of concern through Phil.

Phil's eyes then flicked between PJ and Dan as they seemed to share a wordless argument through glares. Phil never knew what went on between the two, the unspoken hatred they shared for each other.

"Why don't you and Dan share the bed, and I'll take the chair? That way it'll save space. This chair's comfortable enough." Phil suggested, stepping between the two men in case it came to blows. He doubted it, but it might happen.Nobody was prone to violence.

Besides, he never liked getting nicer things than the other men just because of his social status. It was a privilege forced onto him that he'd rather not deal with.

PJ looked at Dan, alarmed, trying to seek out a defense against this. Dan barely batted an eye.

"I suppose." PJ sputtered. "But...let me give you a bath. You must be weary from the journey."

Phil considered this. He didn't care for a bath right now, he'd much rather go explore the town. But, he didn't want to upset PJ or any of the others. "Sure."

He followed PJ out the door, walking through the deep shadows cast in the hallway.

• • •

Phil exited the metal tub, wrapping a towel against his wet body. His skin had been scoured thoroughly by PJ, tingling and pink. The bathhouse was freezing, and Phil wanted out as quickly as possible.

"Did the guards go somewhere?" Phil questioned, rubbing himself down. He shivered, the air cold against his wet skin. "...or Dan?"

PJ grabbed a shirt and passed it to Phil, who slid it over his head.

"Perhaps. I don't know, sir." He replied stiffly, handing Phil the rest of his clothes. He grabbed a prickly brush and ran it through Phil's hair a couple of times, which Phil thought was pointless considering his hair was straight and wet anyway.

"Should I go look for them?" PJ asked, alternating now between rubbing and brushing the pitch-colored strands.

Phil shook his head. "I'll do it. Do you need any help cleaning the tub?" The cool air seeped through the thin layers of clothes, making him shiver once more.

PJ looked at him, shocked. "Of course not, Your Highness! I will take care of this. You needn't worry." Phil was then shooed out of the bathhouse and thrust into the empty hallway, the door slammed behind him before Phil could offer his assistance again, or worse, actually do something for himself for once.

Phil chuckled to himself as he monotonously walked down the stairs to the room he was staying in. Perhaps he could interest Dan for some sightseeing, it might cheer him up. 

As if by chance, when Phil entered the room, there was Dan, crouched in a corner rustling around.

 _What is he doing?_ Phil thought, craning his head to try and see what the man was up to. He was digging around in their baggage, specifically, one of Corporal Kendall's storage bags.

"Dan?" Phil finally asked, a funny feeling in his stomach. He felt like he had just eaten rotten fruit, sick and uncertain of what was going on. His intuition was screaming _wrong wrong wrong_.

Dan hesitated, his hand hovering over the bundles of food rations laid out before him, Phil not even knowing where he had found them. "Where are the others?" He asked quietly, stuffing the wrapped bread and jerky quickly into a bag. _Stealing_. The thought flashed in Phil's brain. _Thief_.

"I... I think they went down to the dining area." Phil said, not taking his eyes off of Dan. He saw the muscles in Dan's shoulders' visibly relax.

Phil felt like his heart had stopped. He stared at Dan's form, watched as he pretended like Phil wasn't there and continued taking food from their stores. By his side was his traveling bag, his sleeping pad and blankets.

This was a different man from the person Phil had seen before, who had given him flowers and laughed with him. It frightened him. This Dan was sneaky, smart, collective.

"Dan? Are you going somewhere? Did I do something wrong?" Phil asked, his heart breaking into tiny pieces like an icicle hitting the ground. He didn't care about the food, they could always buy more. What he cared about was Dan going off on his own without any warning.

"Please tell me if I did." Phil pleaded. He felt himself moving towards Dan, crouching down in front of him. Dan's head was down, turned away from him, his hair flopping into his eyes. He seemed...fragile. At first, Phil didn't do anything, treating Dan like a delicate sculpture he was afraid to break. His hand traveled to Dan's hair, brushing it out of his eyes. His hair was soft to the touch.

"Stop it." Dan shied away from him, and Phil heard a tiny warble in his voice, the tiny chink in his armor. Something was wrong, and Dan wasn't telling him.

Phil moved closer to him, tried to place a hand on Dan's shoulder, desperate to hang onto the parts of his world he had created for himself that were rapidly falling apart. The man that he cared so much about was pushing him away. He relied on Dan, he was the only person in his life that made him truly happy.

"Dan, I'm your friend, I only want to-,"

"No, you're not my blasted _friend_. Stop calling me that. I'm your servant, you're a bloody prince. You like to act like none of that matters, but it does. Get your head out of the clouds." Dan snapped at Phil, quickly shoving Phil's hand off his shoulder. Phil finally saw Dan's face, and his eyes were like sparking flames, erratic and fiery and all directed at...him.

Phil recoiled, the words harsh and hurtful. "If that's how you feel, then why do any of it? Why bother to be kind to me, to come with me in the first place?" Phil sputtered, needing answers, struggling to hold his weight against the storm. 

"Because I needed a way out of your stupid kingdom! It wasn't to _serve_ you, or to _bond_ with you, to offer my companionship, or any of it!" Dan shouted at him, clenching the paper-wrapped jerky in his hand furiously. Phil was sure Dan had struck him, the force of his words causing Phil to jump back.

Dan took a deep breath, and continued, this time much more calmly. Phil wished he had the ability to control himself like that. "I'm a servant. I don't have much money, so I couldn't travel far without starving. But I needed to get out. To make a fresh start for myself. This was the easiest way."

Phil stared at him, wondering how he was able to feel so unnerved, so dumbfounded. He looked into the eyes of his friend. His leaving friend, his lying friend, the man who had shown him so many new things.

"You don't mean that. We're friends, you're just upset." Phil said, his voice a hoarse whisper. Yes, that was it. Dan was angry, and was taking it out on him. Phil forgave him for that, knowing how easy it was to get lost in your anger. This wasn't Dan.

Dan looked at him, and Phil noticed his eyes were glinting with the slightest of regret. "I...I don't know. But I'm leaving. It's better for both of us, so I don't hurt you any longer."

"Where will you go?" Phil said, his voice sounding strangely weak. Nothing made sense anymore. He must surely be going mad.

Dan brushed the question off, rolling his shoulders back. Did he even know the answer himself?  
"I've left some of what little money I had on your bed. To make up for the things I'm taking from you. It doesn't matter what you tell the others. Tell them I died, for all I care."

Phil remained dumbed into silence as Dan stood up, leaving Phil sat on the floor as he walked past him with his belongings in hand.

 _No no no._ Phil thought, his heart racing with panic. He couldn't let this happen, he couldn't let Dan leave.

"I don't want your money, I have enough money to last me a lifetime. Skies above, Dan, don't go! Please!" Phil felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes, he didn't want him to go. He longed to wipe at his eyes, to wake up and find that this was all a terrible, terrible dream. He wanted this day to cease to exist. He wanted...

No, he just wanted Dan. He wanted to be able to look into his large brown eyes at all times, to hear his deep laugh bloom like flowers in the spring. He hadn't realized that before, whatever 'that' was.

"I'm sorry Prince Phillip, I really, truly am. I hope your princess is kind, I hope she knows how lucky she is to be able to spend her life with you." Dan said quietly, stopping at the door. He looked back at Phil with sorrowful eyes, as he stood on the threshold of his journey. Dan fidgeted, looking like he wanted to add something, but instead walked briskly out the door without another word.

Phil sank back, waves of shock rolling over him, swallowing him whole until he disappeared.

 _He's gone._ Phil thought.

It didn't seem real.

• • •

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im introducing more characters...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New characters!  
> I took a break from this story to write another (Promise You're Mine #spon) so I'm behind on updates.

Dan had forgotten what it was like to roam the streets alone, with a only bag of your few possessions tightly clenched to your body, and your money stashed somewhere safe.  

 _You've gotten soft, Howell._ Dan told himself, moving a woman out of his path as he travelled through Rivertown. He was on edge, not only from what he had just done, but from the abundance of strangers in the town.

He didn't allow himself to think of what had happened only yesterday, the pleading voice and the sad face of the prin-

Dan blinked, willing the fresh memories away. Even though that was all he had now, wisps of memories floating around in his mind of a better time from this. He was still reeling from the experience, he really was. _You got in too deep_. Dan told himself.

"Fish, nice cold fish!" Dan's thoughts were interrupted by a loud, brash voice in his face. "You want to buy some fish, yeah?" The large man asked him.

Dan shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Then why are you loitering in front of my stand? Out of the way boy, you're blocking the buying costumers." The seller shooed Dan out of the way and into the path of a couple arm in arm with each other. He crashed into the frames of the people, and tumbled to the cold stone of the street.

"Excuse you!" The woman exclaimed, her plentiful curls shaking as she picked up her skirt and moved around Dan with no concern whatsoever. Dan rubbed his sore shoulder, having smacked in on the cobblestone. 

Dan pushed himself up on his elbows, moving himself into the alley behind a shop like a beetle to avoid any more crowds. He supposed he was a beetle, a pesky bug people stepped on and ignored, passing him off as a nuisance. To his luck, he ended up in a puddle, soaking his already dirty tunic.

He finally stood up, brushing off the filthy water and leaning against the wall, breathing hard.

Was this what he really wanted? Being invisible and alone, always looking for shelter and money?

It was for the best, he decided. _You're out of that wretched job, you've gotten away from the prince. You were stupid, and got too close to him(he couldn't bring himself to refer to him as anything other than the prince.)You should have never been interested in him, you should have never talked to him about anything._

"Pardon me sir?" A light, accented voice cut into Dan's inner thoughts. "I was wondering- could you take these boxes into my store? I'm afraid I'll slip in the puddles again if I try and go back."

Dan looked up and came face to face with a small young woman, with long brown hair that reached her waist. She was draped in colorful clothing, and to Dan's surprise, had no shoes on at all. The strangest thing wasn't that, it was the clouded white eyes that gave away the woman's blindness. It wasn't just her eyes that were unsettling, her entire presence felt...odd. Unnatural, out of place, alien.

But she gave Dan a welcoming smile, offering the boxes to him and luring him in with eyes that managed to twinkle despite being completely white.

Dan didn't owe anything to her, not a damn thing, but he hadn't been shown kindness once by any of these pedestrians, these people who only cared about themselves. 

 _I am quite thankful you considered my feelings in all this...mess_.

Dan's eyes widened as the words the prince had told him the day they had met echoed through his brain. Where had that come from? Did he miss him so much that his subconscious was using that against Dan so he would be considerate of others?

"Of course." He answered too quickly, unnerved, and took the woman's hand as well as the boxes to lead her back too. He gripped her hand too tightly, still uneasy. He wondered if she was a siren, a temptress who could will the minds of men with a bat of her eyes. Why else would he agree to help her?

The pair rounded the corner of the alley, Dan being sure to avoid puddles.

When they reached the door to the woman's shop, Dan noticed it was carved with many different runes and words he couldn't make sense of. It reminded him of spellbooks.

"If you'll just put them over by the stairs." The woman said, and Dan realized that she had released his hand and was already opening the door to her store.

Dan first noticed there were wind-chimes hanging from the ceiling, creating an eerie tune when the door swung open. To avoid hitting the chimes with his head, stupid tallness, Dan had to brush them out of the way, causing them to vibrate and wail more.

He then took note of the shelves of leather-bound books and bottled substances lining the walls. Three or so skulls that looked terrifyingly human were resting on the counter as Dan approached it, next to a stand full of elegant jewelry that shifted a different color as you passed it. Every sort of queer thing you could imagine filled the shop, clocks and stones and hats and puppets...

"Those skulls really are human ones." The woman's bright voice chimed in from the doorway. "Not forcibly obtained, I hope. My husband once told me they belonged to old friends of his, but I don't believe it."

Dan set the boxes next to a rather dusty chest with three padlocks on it that he had his suspicions about, then glanced at her, confusion lacing his mind.

"How did you know I was thinking of...?"

"Don't ask silly questions. Tell me your name instead." The woman crossed the room, her fingers carding across the wind chimes, and sank down into a rocking chair.

Dan frowned at her. "Why should I do that?"

Her lip twitched. "Well, if you're going to get your knickers in a twist. My name's Marzia. And yours is Dan."

Dan suddenly snapped into action, looked around hurriedly and grabbed a sharp looking knife with a jade handle off a shelf. This was getting too strange. She couldn't see, he had never met her in his life, how could she do and think so much?

"How the hell do you know what my name is?" His thief instincts were coming back to him, he didn't trust people who knew his name. He was willing to do anything to protect himself, to survive. If he had to come to force, he would. Dan pointed the knife in her direction.

She laughed, a strangely pleasant sound coming from someone so... disturbing.

"I might as well tell you. I just...found it, I suppose." Marzia leaned back in her chair, satisfied with the leverage she held over Dan. She was teasing him.

Dan lowered the knife, which was pointless anyways, considering she couldn't see it. "How?"

"I'm a seer. I can read minds. I tune thoughts out mostly for consideration, but I felt traces of magic on you and got curious. I apologize for invading your privacy, though. I can't help myself sometimes." She said with a knowing smile, like she had seen things that were delightfully secretive, deliciously private.

Dan's heart thumped. He shouldn't believe her, it was absurd. But he had learned a long time ago that anything was plausible. "What do-,"

Before he could finish, the door swung open with a whoosh as a man entered the store. The wind chimes twinkled against each other.

"Hello." Marzia greeted the tall stranger. "What can I do for you today...sir?" She stood from her rocking chair and moved behind the counter, her hair swinging like a lady's skirt. Now that Dan knew the truth about her, he noticed that she seemed to be so capable because of her abilities.

"Couple of goat hearts, please." The man thumped a sack of coins onto the counter with a gloved hand.

Dan watched curiously as Marzia fetched a jar of two slimy looking organs from the shelf and set them in front of the man. The swollen hearts bobbed in the liquid, a grotesque sight.

"Four kings, please." She requested, turning to grab a small wooden box from beneath the counter. The man muttered something about the preposterous prices of goods these days, and pulled four coins out of his purse. Dan squinted, as he realized that the coins were all queens, not kings. They were of a much smaller value, meaning the man intended to try and cheat Marzia.

He glanced down at the unaware Marzia, who was busy wrestling with something shrieking beneath the counter. _God knows what,_ Dan thought, stifling a shudder.

"Excuse me?" Dan said, moving swiftly towards the man. "She said four kings, not queens. There's quite a big difference." He stared expectantly at the man, who glowered as he dug back into the cloth pouch and pulled out the correct amount.

Marzia smiled, oblivious. "Thank you for your patronage." She told the man as he stomped out of the store, goat hearts in hand.

Dan rolled his eyes, and leaned against the counter. He remained like that, until his eyes shifted over towards the lingering form of Marzia. She was very quiet. Too quiet. He jolted, and backed away, terror lacing through him.

"You're not reading my mind again, are you?" He asked, bumping over a large harp.

She shook her head. "No. I was just wondering what you're still doing here if you are so scared of me." She said, her cheeks lifting into a teasing grin.

Dan rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm leaving now, if it makes you happy." Dan grumbled, walking fast towards the door. Marzia hummed in response as she grabbed the golden harp and disappeared up the stairs.

Dan opened the door and huffed. The nerve of that seer. Reading his mind, then acting like it was _he_ who was being impolite. Well, she could go and-

Dan was pushed back as he ran into the form of a short man in a large overcoat, stumbling away from the door.

Dan rubbed his forehead in frustration, he was tired of running into people who weren't watching where they were going, people treating him like dirt beneath their shoes, like an inconvience. "I'm sorry." Dan gritted out an insincere apology.

"Nah, don't be sorry. I ran into you, mister." The man said, swerving past him and towards the counter, unwinding his scarf and setting it there. He pulled off his gloves as well, Dan finding it all rude of him.

Marzia drifted down the stairs at the sound of the wind chimes, as gracefully as fog settling over a lake. A large toad rested in her hands, disrupting the image of normalcy. "Oh, so busy today. Maybe you bring luck, Daniel."

He bristled at the use of his full name and scoffed. Luck was not something he carried.

The toad croaked loudly, and Marzia glanced down at the slimy, olive-colored creature.

"What was that?" She asked, setting the toad down, who rapidly turned and hopped back up the stairs. "Your friend is here?" She said, a confused look spreading across her face.

Dan found himself lingering at the door, wanting to know how the scene played out. Besides, this man might be another person trying to take advantage of the blind woman.

Marzia blinked. "May I help you?" She frowned, pressing into her temples urgently. "...Somethings's not right." She whispered under her breath, and began babbling incoherent words at breakneck speed. She had gone from composed and collected to frenzied and frantic in a matter of seconds.

"Marzia, don't worry. It's me." The man soothed her, moving forward to plant himself in front of Marzia with a grin on his face and open arms.

Her pale eyes suddenly grew as wide as the moon. "Felix!" She exclaimed, and launched herself at him, as they both dissolved into happy laughter, holding each other tightly.

Dan flushed an awkward color, feeling like he was stepping on some romantic moment written by poets about reuniting with the one you loved.

Marzia detached herself from Felix, with a smile you couldn't wipe off her face.

"Dan, let me introduce Felix, my husband. He's a trader, you see, and I haven't seen him for many a fortnight." She explained, lacing her hand with his. They were sweet together, and it made Dan sad.

Dan gave an uncomfortable smile. "That's splendid. Well, I'll just be going now...," Dan trailed off and edged towards the door like some sort of pillock.

Marzia stared at him, her eyes glassy. "But you don't have anywhere to go." She said, confused.

Dan grimaced. She must have been reading his mind again. "I'll figure something out."

He gripped the bag on his shoulder, and avoided Marzia's worrying gaze. He didn't need her pity, and he certainly didn't want to explain why he was traveling alone with only six food packets to his name and a sack of coins.

"Um. If you ever need a job, or a place to stay, there's always here. I could use someone to help around here when Felix is gone." She offered, Felix nodding in agreement. He must be awfully confused, Dan concluded.

Dan shook his head, his jaw tightening just like his heart. He wasn't going to get involved with anyone with a sympathetic face, he would not make that mistake again.

He gave a cordial farewell wave, and stepped out of the shop and into the breeze.

As Dan weaved through the crowds of people like a needle through fabric, he eyed a woman with a small purse slung around her. He bumped into her purposely and snatched it, stuffing it into his bag while he made false apologies. He nicked a pocket watch off of another man, falling easily back into his old routine.

It wasn't until he was pressed against the wall of a shop that he thought of him, he thought of Phil. He saw him in the faces of smiling children, the entwined hands in the streets. He was reminded of him by the plants in the streets, by the blackbirds resting on a fence that were the same inky color as Phil's hair.

Dan ended up in the wet damp of a abandoned stable, munching on a slice of bread and dried meat.

It tasted like nothing. He didn't sleep a wink, wondering where he was to stay next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyyye I'm back.
> 
> (Also spoilers at the end notes you have been warned)

Phil was fluctuating between feeling nothing at all and everything at once. They'd left the inn, moving farther into the bustling town.

Sometimes he'd be alright, he would talk to PJ and Corporal Kendall and forget about Dan. He would create tiny snowflakes from his fingertips, make flowers bloom from his palms, knowing he should practice other things besides silly tricks. Other times he'd lie awake, thinking of him, pretending that Dan was there too with the stars reflecting in his eyes or admiring the illusions Phil created.

It had only been four days since Dan's departure, but Phil was still reeling. PJ had peppered everyone with questions, confused as to what had happened with Dan. Phil simply said he had gone, not wanting to recall the incident.

Corporal Kendall didn't seem to be affected by any of this, merely saying he wished Dan safe travels wherever he went. Phil had watched him with careful eyes, knowing something had happened with him and Dan. He was part of the cause.

They were traveling through the town, Phil keeping his eyes wide open for Dan. He's always looking for him, knowing he can't have gone too far away in the span of three days.

The sun was setting when their party stopped at a tavern close to the edge of town. Their party was making good progress, almost through the entirety of Rivertown.

"Unfortunately, this is the only place in site where there offer room and board." PJ said distastefully, pulling his jacket closer around him. "It's no place for a prince of such high standing to stay." This caused a murmur of comments from the two corporals.

"It's fine." Phil said with a grim smile. It took an effort to do so. Phil didn't say anything else, and instead got off of his horse and walked into the tavern without further instruction.

Phil's eyes widened as he was greeted with boisterous voices and rowdy laughter once he stepped the room. At each of the tables something different is going on. At one a man was avidly telling a story, with wild gestures and ale splashing on the wood. Two men with caps pulled tight on their heads were flirting with the barmaids. Conversations are slurred, the air is thick with the smell of alcohol, and Phil wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"'This, Prince Phillip, is a tavern." Corporal Kendall said loudly, unable to speak normally in the crowded room. "A merry place, in my opinion." He exchanged an eager look with Corporal Bates, and Phil wondered just how much they enjoyed taverns. Corporal Kendall then left to the bar to get a room.

"It's full of drunks and bums." PJ shouted over the noise to Corporal Bates. "Perhaps we should find some other place to stay."

"What?"

PJ flicked his hair in annoyance. " _Perhaps we should leave._ " He said again, taking the time to pronounce each word carefully.

" _What_?"

PJ tossed a hand angrily in Corporal Bate's direction, blowing him off. "Never mind, you complete idiot."

Corporal Kendall returned with a key in hand and a grin on his face. He seemed giddy, eager to be in the presence of large amounts of drink. This was a side of the usually serious man Phil had seen before. This person was animated, just another fun-loving man.

PJ snatched the key from the corporal's unsuspecting hand, stomping up the stairs with no regard to the others. Phil caught traces of PJ's curses directed at the others.

"Right. Well. You've never been to a tavern like this before," Corporal Kendall said, staring at PJ's angry form disappearing.

"So, drink responsibly, don't start any fights with the men or the barmaids, keep an eye on your money. If you need anything, just look for the two drunk men in the corner!" Corporal Kendall finished with a raucous laugh, Bates joining in, both clapping an arm on each other and leaving to find a table to sit at.

Phil lingered by the door, not quite sure where to go. He felt like a dog told to sit and stay put. He was a bit unsettled after his guards left him to go drink away the night, but he supposed he should allow them to have fun. After all the toils of the journey so far, they deserved to let loose, even though Phil wasn't exactly at peace with them.

Phil's eyes traveled to the bar, to the selection of drinks displayed on shelves. He was curious, admittedly, about it all. He had had alcohol before, wine or ale, but never in copious amounts, or this strong of substances, whiskey and brandy. Perhaps the drink would dull the ache in his heart.

Phil found himself sitting in a stool next to PJ, ordering whiskey. _That seems like a good place to start._

He took a hesitant sip, wincing as the burning liquid travelled down his throat. It was incredibly strong, and Phil found himself taking another drink, and another, and another.

Soon after Phil had finished his large glass and was ordering another. His head felt like it was buzzing with bees, sweet little bees bouncing all around. He felt bubbly, like the liquid had turned evaporated and was creating a storm inside of him. He felt giddy, yet sad, yet calm all at the same time. The feeling overwhelmed him, making his head spin.

Phil tried to take his mind off of it by searching the tavern with his eyes, seeing the corporals caught up in an intense game of dice, shouts of excitement and dismay filling the table. Was the game dices? He couldn't remember. He gulped down some more whiskey, draining the glass.

His eyelids were becoming increasingly more difficult to blink, and Phil doubted that was a good sign. He tried to remember what Corporal Kendall had said... _drink deservedly? Reservedly? Responsibly?_

 _After only two drinks Phil, really_ , He thought, shaking his head in shame. He was a terrible lightweight.

So Phil left the bustle of the bar, instead going to the quiet confinements of an empty alcove underneath the stairs. He sank onto the ground, watching the people with a dazed look on his face and a fog in his mind.

There were no people in the area, except a man mumbling nonsense and one completely passed out, slumped onto the floor with his mouth hanging open.

There was a small creak in the floorboards, and Phil looked up. A lanky boy was walking closely towards the passed out man. What was he doing? His hand sunk into the man's pocket, pulling out a handful of coins.

That didn't look right. Maybe the coins were the boy's? But that didn't make sense either.

"Hey!" Phil said, trying to be authoritative but sounding more like a bumbling drunkard. The boy whipped around to him. "That's not-," He drifted off. A flash of surprise appeared in large brown eyes. Very familiar brown eyes, that always were able to captivate him. Wavy hair that flopped in his face, that was Dan. Perhaps he was imagining him.

Dan wasted no time and darted towards the back door. He had always been like that, making quick decisions. Quicker than a spider, Phil almost didn't react.

"Wait!" Phil frantically shouted after the figure. He chased after him quickly, moving clumsily but fast. He pushed him into a wall so he blocked his path and Dan could travel no further.

Dan looked incredibly startled as Phil placed an arm on his shoulder to prevent him from moving farther.

Phil stared at him, blinking twice to confirm Dan's presence. No, he wasn't dreaming. He tested his grip on Dan's shoulder, making sure there was flesh underneath his hand.

"Dan," Phil said, practically melting out of relief. He had Dan back. Dan frowned, disregarding Phil's statement. He leaned forward, getting close to Phil, sniffing once. "Your Highness, you smell like whiskey. Have you been _drinking_?"

"We are in a tavern." Phil proclaimed, gesturing wildly. "But never mind that, those coins aren't yours." He pointed at the coins clenched in Dan's hand.

Dan scowled. "I'm aware, sir."

Phil frowned at Dan calling him 'Your Highness', and 'sir'. He didn't like it one bit.

They stayed in that position for too long, Dan looking up at Phil, Phil blocking Dan's way. Phil sort of liked Dan close against him, he could see every freckle on his face, every line on his forehead. _Dan's much too young to have worry lines already_. Phil fretted. He could feel the heat radiating from him.

Phil could see that Dan was staring at him too, his look worried. Dan had fit himself against Phil, in a nice spot where Dan's chest was pressed against Phil's and the strands of Dan's hair pushed up.

Dan cleared his throat. "Well, if you don't mind, Your Highness, I'd like to get back to my business."

Phil didn't want to leave. He knew if he let Dan go again, he would go back to the streets, stealing off of unsuspecting citizens. Living off of stolen jerky and stale bread. Phil studied Dan, wondering if he even wanted to leave himself.

But Phil let Dan push him back gently, a large and slender hand placed on his chest, and he wondered if Dan was able to do that all along, and he had never blocked him in the first place. Dan didn't walk away, he just stood farther away from Phil.

The alcove was dark, the glare from the lanterns never reaching the hall. Phil still watched Dan, with a longing look. His head was spinning, but Phil wondered if it was from the drink anymore.

"Dan?" Phil asked, his word taking its time to stumble out. For God's sake, he had only had two glasses.

Dan looked up at him. His brown eyes were wide and shining. _Like the moon_ , Phil mused.

"Stay? Please?" Phil said.

Dan half-laughed, half-sighed. He deliberated for a few moments before speaking. "Well, I can't leave you alone when you're drunk. Who knows what trouble you could get into."

Phil grinned. He wanted to hug Dan, to pull him close and feel his body heat against his own.

"C'mon, I know a place where we can be alone."

• • •

They were sitting on two crates behind the tavern, shrouded under the night sky. Dan had collected a glass of water for Phil to drink, and he took small sips of it gratefully, glad that the taste of alcohol was washing away.

"Have you been practicing your magic?" Dan asked quietly. The way he said it had made it seem like he had been gone for years, not days.

Phil sighed, the water making his head not as fuzzy. "Not what I should be doing. Only little tricks, not the helpful things."

Phil was itching to ask Dan about his past, the...thievery. Phil pictured a younger Dan, stealing food and money just to stay alive. Phil wondered what that was like, having always had abundant amounts of available food growing up.

"I have to ask," Phil started. "About your...,"

Dan smiled grimly. "My being a thief and all." He shifted, seeming unwillingly to share the information. Phil wondered if he had asked too much, if he had overstepped, but Dan opened his mouth and spoke.

" I come from a very poor town, kids were always on the streets, old women begged on street corners, sickness spread like fire. My parents died when I was a child, got sick. I was lucky to get the schooling that I did, to have enough skills to function. I didn't have anywhere else to go. There was no family who wanted me. I was twelve, got into a bad crowd, stole food. I don't remember much about those three years, all I know is I ended up at the palace after being caught trying to steal from a fruit stall by a palace servant, who offered me a job. I'll never repay them, for giving me somewhere to live."

They talked some more, Phil sharing stories of his time at the palace, Dan making Phil laugh with well-times comments. Phil took note of the leg pressing into his own. Of the stars in the sky, of the moonlight turning Dan's hair silver. He listened to Dan ramble on about how the castle wasn't much better, that he was treated like dirt there too.

"Can I kiss you?" Phil wondered out loud. He clamped a hand over his mouth, realizing what he had just said. _You've really done it now_ , he thought.

Dan recoiled from Phil, a look of shock on his face. "Phil- we can't...you're not serious." Dan changed his answer, not mentioning the fact that they were both of the same sex.

"You keep telling me we aren't friends, and I know that's not what you really meant, but you're right. We're something more than that. I don't know what _that_ is, but I'd like to find out." Phil said, a newfound bluntness from the alcohol he had consumed earlier. Liquid courage, some foolish saying like that.

Dan stared back at him, terror in his eyes. "I... you...you're...drunk. You don't feel anything like that about... _me_. You're normal, not like me, for star's sake, you're a _prince_." He whispered furiously at Phil. Phil didn't know, but Dan was really trying to convince himself of all this. He put so much emphasis on prince, the word loaded with different worries.

Phil shook his head. "I've never been normal. And I've never felt this way about anyone, where every thought I think is about you, where I can't go a day without seeing you." He flung his arms out for drunken emphasis, nearly falling off of the tree trunk he was perched on. "I'm lost without you." 

Truth be told, Phil was scared too. Romantic love had always been explained to him as something between a strong, handsome man and a pretty and helpless woman. Something written in storybooks, where true love's kiss was a moment of sudden realization that could break evil curses and communicate better than words ever could. So they said.

Phil had to give it a chance, he had to kiss Dan. Phil had never kissed anyone in his life, but he was willing to try. It was an urge inside of him, telling him to take action and press his lips against Dan's-

"I've never even done that before." Dan murmured quietly, seeming much too vulnerable. The look of terror and panic was gone, replaced with a doe-eyed uncertainty. Like he wanted to kiss Phil too.

"Me either. But I swear, if you kiss me, I'll go to the moon and back." Phil whispered, placing his hand on Dan's. Surprisingly, he didn't pull it away.

Perhaps it was the glow of the moonlight, or the alcohol Phil had consumed, but when Phil looked into Dan's eyes he was sure he loved him. He didn't even need to kiss him. And it wasn't because Dan was the most wonderful thing Phil had ever seen in the world, with his strong jaw and limber frame, yet gentle features, it was because he felt he could tell Dan anything. He could laugh with him or he could be content just sitting next to him. He had wit, and charm, and wiseness beyond his few years.

Phil felt Dan shift next to him, moving closer to him. His fingers reached up to touch Phil's face.

"You can...kiss me," Dan said finally, his words so small in his voice that Phil barely heard them. "I- I want you to."

Phil looked at Dan and slowly placed his own hand on Dan's cheek, cupping it slightly.

Dan still looked very nervous. Phil rubbed Dan's cheek to try and sooth him, liking how the soft skin felt underneath his thumb. Perhaps he didn't even want Phil to kiss him, and was just saying so because he was afraid. But the longing in Dan's eyes looked real, and Phil couldn't imagine Dan not feeling the same way as him.

Before he lost his nerve, Phil leaned forward and kissed Dan, eyes sliding shut as his lips met Dan's.

It was a soft kiss, Dan's lips warm and yielding against his own. Yet it felt electric to Phil, he felt his heart beat twice as fast. It was innocent in its meaning, neither knowing quite what to do, both stiff as a board.

Phil broke apart from Dan to stare at him, confused in every sense. At first, he panicked. _Dan was right, they were both men, men shouldn't be kissing, and even further I shouldn't be enjoying it_.

But then, Phil realized he didn't care.  
Dan was looking at him in they way Phil could only describe as how he imagined he looked at Dan.

Dan slid a hand back up to Phil's neck and this time kissed him, this time not as cautious or awkward. Phil wasn't either, as he leaned into Dan, trying to get closer despite being pressed tightly against each other.

Phil felt like he was exploding, the feeling of Dan kissing him and close to him making him radiant. He breathed in Dan's familiar scent, sweet yet musky and masculine.

Then it stopped, Dan pulling back from Phil abruptly. "We shouldn't- what if we're seen?" He glanced worriedly over his shoulder, looking for people that weren't there.

Phil smiled at Dan, he loved every inch of this boy. "We won't be seen." He said gently, leaning forward.

Dan frowned slightly, eyes still wandering past Phil. "I think this is too much of a risk, people can get killed for this."

Phil thought about this. He was right, people could be killed for being with another man this way, for loving someone of their same gender. It was supposedly sinful, blasphemous and unnatural.

But Phil could not help the way he looked at Dan, even if he was condemned for the rest of his life.

"Just for tonight. Can we forget about...everything." He didn't bother to elaborate on what everything was, Phil's issues with his family, his betrothal...the list went on and on.

Dan seemed to agree, and soon they were resting against the wall, Phil's arm wrapped around Dan, the younger boy's head in the crook of his neck. Both of them knew this wouldn't last forever, that one of them would have to return to the tavern eventually.

But for the first time in a while, both of them felt safe and at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they kissed. Finally. Romantic tension and slow burn is finished. Updates might be slow, it depends on my inspiration levels.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd really appreciate any comments or kudos.  
> check out my tumblr: https://petalsandphan.tumblr.com/


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